alignmyheart | au of an au

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.

Percival dutifully offers Essek his arm before they leave the library. Though staff likely weren't anticipating their lords to waltz out of that particular room, at least the chamberlain had been warned of their imminent arrival. The only chore is getting from the library to the suite that had once been Percy's alone. Esssk still has his own apartments whenever he should want them, but Percival has made several alterations to ensure his space is comfortable for Essek. The four poster bed now has heavy blackout curtains and the windows have been enchanted do that either of them can control just how bright the room is. Percy cannot give up bright, warm afternoons, but he's never been much of a morning person, and so it's no trouble to ensure there is no glaring sun for Essek to hide from upon waking.

It isn't so early here as it was in Westrun, but there are no advisors urgently seeking either of them. And any who do catch sight of the pair might recognize the look on Essek's face as a warning.

The room is already prepared for their arrival: the fire is lit, robes and Essek's slippers laid out, and breakfast comes just as they reach the door. Percival has the wherewithal to thank the maid and ensure she's gone before he sweeps Essek into his arms.

How fortuitous that information seems to have been disseminated quickly. Anyone they happen to pass as they walk (and float, respectively) arm in arm through the wide, well-lit halls of Whitestone Castle respectfully stays out of their way. The better for them, honestly, as Essek finds himself irritated not only by his own mistake, but the bright morning sunlight stinging his sensitive skin and half blinding him. There isn't even anything to be done for it, as his dark glasses are packed away in his chest rather than easily accessible in his wristpocket. His resulting squint must look enough like a glare to deter anyone who might not have heard yet that their lords are not to be disturbed.

Arriving at Percival's apartments--lately used by both of them more often than not--brings respite and relief. Essek barks the arcane command to darken the windows as soon as they are through the door. He is slower to notice how nicely the room has been prepared as his vision takes time to return. The maid who brings their breakfast is ignored entirely as Essek closes his eyes and reacclimates to familiar, soothing darkness and the room's welcoming, personal mix of scents. It is good to be home.

His vision is still a little spotty, which allows his husband to surprise him by pulling him close. But what a wonderful surprise it is. Essek is light as air and easy to sweep up, hovering at eye level. His arms slide over Percival's shoulders and loop behind his neck. Was it really only last night that he was pressed to a wall this way at a diplomatic function?

"It must have been difficult to keep your hands off me for an entire quarter-hour," he teases, smirking.

"It was," he murmurs, voice lower and warmer. "Terribly difficult. Nigh on impossible. Do you have any idea how tempting it was to have you in the hall?"

Percival grins and coaxes Essek into a firm kiss. He makes his way over to their bed to set his husband down on the fresh blankets. The curtains are currently tied back, but that is easily fixed. He kisses Essek again, calloused fingers sliding into the other man's pale hair. Now that they are alone and somewhere safe and familiar, Percy feels the sharp demand of his rut bursting through him again. There are far too many layers of clothes between them, and it has been too long since he buried himself in his mate with the intent to breed him.

He breathes a heavy sigh as he breaks the kiss.

"Perhaps I should let us eat first," he murmurs, though he sounds pained to do even that. But he knows they'll need it, especially if there is even a slight chance that Essek may be going into heat. All Percival wants to do is have him, to claim him, but he can make himself wait longer if it comes to that.

They're home in Whitestone, they're safe and they'll be left alone the way they both desire.

"You did that already," Essek observes mildly, but with a curl of his lips that demonstrates his amusement. His soft smirk is quickly covered by Percy's mouth, and he reciprocates greedily as he's carried to their bed and set down on it. Percival's hand slides into his hair, making a further mess of the loose, unstyled waves, and his body responds to his alpha's demand. Essek feels himself flush further, something dark and wanton bubbling to the surface of his awareness.

When Percival relents to consider that perhaps they should eat, Essek nearly snarls, seconds away from baring his fangs at the mere idea of stopping now. The heavy warmth filling his veins and pooling between his legs is too distracting, too insistent. He forces himself to maintain a veneer of civility so he doesn't behave like some feral waste creature from savage Xhorhas in front of his noble husband.

"There is a reason we were brought a cold breakfast, is there not?" he points out, his soft voice as breathy as it is reasonable. But he is right; the tray of food consists of fruit and cheese, thick slices of sweet bread and honeyed butter and cured meat, so that they can eat at their leisure.

He leans back, and gravity makes his descent to the blankets slow and controlled. It also makes the sharp tug as he attempts to pull his husband closer by his shirt twice as strong as it would be otherwise--no great feat, certainly, but more than he could ordinarily manage. His hastily donned robes fan out around him, and his soft slippers slide from his toes, landing with a muted thump each against the floor.

The sound of his husband's snarl probably shouldn't send such a sharp jolt of heat straight to Percival's core, but it does. If he weren't hard already, that little feral flash of need would have done him in. So he doesn't resist as Essek leans back and he feels the added weight of the wizard's magic ensuring he follows as Essek intends.

Percy shrugs out of his suspenders before his hands hit the bed to brace his weight.

"You're wearing too much," he murmurs heavily, food now forgotten with the promise of Essek in front of him. His husband has a good point, after all: it isn't a hot meal, it will keep just fine until they are ready for it. Percy turns his attention to getting Essek's robes out of the way - if Essek wants them off, he may need to assist in the endeavor. Percy only really cares about getting him bare enough. He pauses to pull carelessly at his own shirt, too warm to tolerate it long. It lands on the floor a moment later, the rush of cooler air against his skin giving him a few moments to focus on the beautiful omega beneath him.

"Out of this." His voice is sharper with command; his knee is braced on the bed, already pinning some of the robes down and so if Essek wants to move further, slipping out of them is going to be a necessity.

Pleased to have successfully drawn his alpha's attention, Essek stretches out on the bed, allowing Percival's skilled hands to tug impatiently at his robes. They peel away the layers between them, fewer than usual, pushing up the front of his long skirts without bothering with any of the hidden ties or laces, until they are gathered artlessly around his upper thighs, baring the smooth dark skin of his legs. Yet he does not bother to remove them entirely. This is not that sort of drawn-out affair.

When his husband tugs his own shirt over his head and climbs over him, pinning his robes under him, Essek's sharp teeth rake over his own lower lip. He's more interested in undressing Percival than disrobing himself, but the sharpness in his husband's voice is compelling, and the way he looks at him makes Essek ache.

"And you," he whispers, eyes grazing down Percy's bare chest to the front of his trousers, where the shape of his erection is temptingly outlined. His pointed ears twitch, all of his complicated jewelry crumpled as so many collapsed chains and dangling stones against the blanket under him.

He lets his legs part slightly as he unfastens his sash, then delves into the layers beneath, undoing the knots of his inner robe and chemise. The thin, sheer fabric slides smoothly apart; he chose this outfit for its ease, and he wears nothing beneath. His head swims, the drape of his loosened layers against feverish skin dragging him into the sort of syrupy pleasure he's come to associate with heat. Between his thighs, he's tender and soaked and swollen. Dark, flushed skin shines with his own slick mingled with the evidence of their earlier activities.

Percy mutters a handful of curses, but he slides back and away from Essek so he can fully undress, leaving everything in a pile on the floor. His glasses get pushed up onto his head and that is all he bothers with before he returns to the bed. His cock is aching and Essek's scent is making him lose his mind.

He eases back onto the bed without hesitating. Rather than immediately climbing over his husband, however, Percival sinks down. His hand strokes over Essek's beautiful cock before he slides it into his mouth. He moans quietly as he bobs his head down, taking Essek as deep as he can. Gods he tastes good, and here so close to him, the scent of his skin and his slick is all that matter. He draws his head back with a suck and pushes two fingers into Essek's cunt. Percival pops off his husband's cock with a soft gasp, then lowers his head to lick soft, swollen folds. His fingers stroke in and out, knowing that Essek really doesn't need the preparation but wanting to indulge them both, to make him feel good.

Percival knows neither of them have much in the way of patience. He feels--a kind of urgency he hasn't felt in years; not even during Essek's last heat. He wants to devour this man, his omega, he wants every part of him, desperately.

Unshelled, peeled back and exposed, Essek covers his mouth with one hand, humid, shameful breaths puffing against his sweaty palm. He has a goal in mind, a need, but nothing seems to matter quite so much in the moment as whatever his alpha wants to do to him. He fights a moan as Percival's hot mouth envelops and then releases his cock, but can't stifle his gasp when two thick human fingers slide down to slip between and spread his folds, pressing against the wet heat of Essek's core.

"Light," is the next word Essek manages to gasp against his bit-tender palm. Tomorrow there will be bruises on the meat of it from his own teeth, no doubt. "Your hands," he moans, one leg falling open further, foot slipping entirely off the bed as his husband's rough, clever fingers move inside him, massaging his cunt, pressing up and in and over while his tongue laps at him, until Essek thinks he'll melt right into the bed. The wet, obscene sounds of them are barely muffled at by the disarray of his loosened robes.

His free hand grabs for his husband's hair, but finds his glasses instead, pushed thoughtlessly up and promptly forgotten about. He pinches the thin bridge of gold wire between two fingers, and with a thought and a flick of his wrist, gravity lifts them away to the safety of the nightstand. For such a delicate instrument, Percival really is quite careless with them.

Percival feels the slight weight of his glasses lift from his head. He trusts that Essek has some plan for them and does not bother to look. He probably should be more careful, but this is likely the reason he has made sure to have more than a few pairs now. He's ruined plenty.

With little effort, he adds another finger on the next careful thrust. He makes himself slow down, fingers stroking as he licks and sucks at blood-hot folds. He lets himself enjoy this, even if he knows he's probably testing Essek's patience. It doesn't take very long for Percy to start testing his own, too. Perhaps any other day he could spend half the day with his face buried between his omega's thighs, but not when they are both so keen for this.

He lifts his head to look up at Essek, drunk on him. He licks his husband's cock, then finally withdraws his fingers. Percy wipes his mouth, then reaches to gently push Essek's thigh up, smearing slick over his dark skin. He looks down, admiring how the wizard looks in front of him, flushed and wanting. It's a delirious thing to know that this man has chosen him. Perhaps their marriage is one neither of them planned for, but they have chosen each other in the end, and that sends a swoop through him that makes his breath catch.

Percival sinks down and leans to kiss Essek, trying to cut through their mutual need to express his adoration.

"I love you," he whispers, voice heavy. "Do you know that?" The question is real and Percy searches his husband's face. He presses his hand to the mattress over Essek's shoulder and leans over him. Percy keeps his gaze on Essek's face as he reaches down with his free hand to guide his cock, brushing it against the perfect heat of his lover's body. "You are everything."

Perhaps it isn't what he needs, the response to the bone-deep instinct driving him, but that doesn't mean Essek isn't also thoroughly enjoying his alpha's enthusiastic attention. He gasps and whimpers behind the shield of his hand, violet eyes almost luminescent in the shaded room, lids at half mast as he gazes down his body at his mate between his legs.

He would come if this continued much longer, but before he can, Percival licks a hot, wet stripe along the underside of his cock and withdraws his fingers with a gentle slide that still has Essek shivering with its intensity. He feels his already heated skin flush further as he glimpses them, bright and wet, a webbing of his own slick dripping between them, before his husband uses that hand to lift his thigh, leaving his skin gleaming and slippery.

Panting and pliant and sore with how empty his cunt now feels, Essek is properly desperate, fervently needing to be filled. Percival's scent is enticing, exhilarating, like nothing he's ever experienced before. Even during his previous heat, out of his mind with the need to fuck, he hadn't felt this wild, a restlessness beneath his skin, a draw to his mate that is primal and untamed.

But with it, with Percival's passionate kiss and heartfelt whispering, comes intense emotion, a deep, bonding love that Essek never thought he would experience in his life. His eyes open wider, blown pupils darting back and forth as he takes in the aching sincerity in his husband's expression at the same time that Percival is taking in his own: hope, fear, earnest devotion, and still, after everything, surprise.

Light, what a man. A good, sweet, dedicated man, and somehow, his. Wretched as he is, guilty as he is, it seems cosmically unfair that what was meant to be his punishment has become such a blessing. But if Percival feels this way for him, an adoration that radiates from the depths of his soul reflected in his eyes, then Essek can only conclude that what is fair is not always right. His place is here. His love is here. For Percival's sake, he must believe this is something he could one day work to deserve.

He is loved. He is everything, at least to one man. That is more than he ever expected.

"You--" His breath catches, whimpering as the hot, blunt head of his alpha's cock slides against his slit, so close to where he needs it that it's nearly torturous. Still, his words come carefully chosen, soft and whispered. "You have made me believe a thing I thought impossible." His hand covers Percival's against his face until it moves, while the other reaches up, clumsier than usual, to return the gesture, fingers skating along a handsome, stubbled jaw, dark purple skin against flushed pale. "If it is for you, my love, I--I will be anything you ask."

Edited 2023-02-04 07:22 (UTC)

Essek's touch is gentle, adoring. For the better part of his life, Percival believed that he did not deserve this sort of love and he believed he could not be worthy of it. For all his fears and doubts, Essek is a balm he could never have anticipated.

"You already are everything I could ask for, Essek Thelyss," he murmurs. Percy kisses him again and finally gives them both some relief: it takes nothing to push into his mate's waiting body. He breathes in sharply and his eyes nearly close as he sinks as deep as he can in a single, smooth thrust. He's usually relatively quiet in bed, but with Essek in heat and himself deep in rut, Percival cannot help the low moan that escapes him.

His hand, now free, drags up along Essek's side until he can rest his forearm on the bed. He doesn't want to be far, keeping his body low over his husband's as he grinds against him. Restless, he reaches down again just a moment later to try to coax one of Essek's legs around him. He needs to be closer and he knows that really isn't possible. But that won't stop them from trying.

"You are brilliant," he continues, his voice heavy and low as he nuzzles against Essek's temple. His hips rock back just enough that he can feel the sweet drag against soft, clinging walls. "And you are going to be the most beautiful parent."

Gods, the mere thought of actually succeeding this time is almost too much. Percival groans as he hits on that need and he gives a harder thrust. He finds one of Essek's hands with his own to lace their fingers together. He ends up pinning it to the bed for the sake of balance, but so long as they can hold each other, he hopes Essek won't care.

That first long, easy slide in steals Essek's breath but for a tiny hitch. When his mate is buried to the root, he clenches around the fullness inside him. There is little encouragement needed to guide his leg around Percival's hip, spreading himself open to welcome the deep grinding that makes his toes curl. The image he presents is already debauched, lying in a pool of his disheveled robes, hair unstyled and makeup the smudged remains of what he'd been wearing last night. He shudders, moaning softly as his husband gives a harder thrust, reminding him of his purpose and pinning his hand to the bed.

Surprisingly, Essek does not care. Or rather, he cares quite a bit, but in a positive way. He doesn't typically enjoy having his hands immobilized--it is the first step to neutralize a wizard, everyone knows that--but the trust here is absolute. He also doesn't typically enjoy following directions in bed (or anywhere, for that matter), but he's been quite eager to listen to Percival so far, in a reversal of their more typical dynamic.

He has admitted this before, when circumstance has forced him to, but Essek is not nearly so experienced as his usual imperious confidence would imply. No other alpha has ever seen him this way. No matter how many times it was suggested that he should just select one to bear him through his heat, at least, he staunchly refused. He didn't care if he could have anyone he wanted, because he wanted none of them. As if being vulnerable with a near stranger wasn't enough to deter him, one small mistake could possibly saddle him with a child, and he was not about to risk that.

Oh, how things change with time.

"I want nothing more," he insists in a heavily accented whisper.

Essek reaches between them to work his available hand over his damp cock, wrapping his other leg around Percy as well to drive him in deeper with an unmistakably needy noise. His cunt flutters. He feels as if he's been hollowed out and refilled with molten heat, with the sweet, electric ache of Percival moving inside him, Percival wanting him, Percival intent on breeding him. His heart is squeezed in an iron fist, threatening to melt and spill out of him.

"Essek..."

He whispers his husband's name like a breathless prayer and his hand tightens where it holds Essek's. Percival bows his head and loses all thought of anything beyond this man, this perfect omega. He never imagined a life in which he would have a family again, have one of his own. But here is a husband who believes that they can and should do this, who wants it as badly as Percy does.

They are two men with a certain kind of ambition. They will make this happen. Of that he has no doubt.

Percival can feel Essek's hand moving between them, stroking his beautiful cock as Percy tries to fuck him harder, deeper. He can feel the squeeze of Essek's cunt around him, driving his own need until it is all he can do to fill him again and again. He lowers his head more and bites Essek's earlobe.

"What a mess you are for me," he whispers, voice tight. "Wet and aching. Are you going to come for me, darling? Or do you need my knot before you'll feel satisfied?"

Essek is drawn tight as a bow. His hand clenches and unclenches where his husband holds it against the bed, needing to grasp something steady. Thighs framing Percival's hips, this position offers both comfort and the leverage necessary to give Essek the kind of fucking he craves. Percival doesn't take long to ramp up to a demanding rhythm, holding Essek down all the while, his cock seated deep inside. His thrusts drive against something soft and sensitive within him, and Essek is robbed of breath. When he bears down deliberately for the pleasure of emphasizing that fullness, the stretch is considerable. It is the kind of sensation that sits just to the left of pain, the kind of sharpness that resolves into tingling warmth. It is heavenly.

Everywhere they touch is a point of heat, including where blunt human teeth nip at his sensitive ear. Keening, Essek bucks and writhes under him, feeling the silken texture of his own discarded garments against his back. His husband's wicked, provocative words pull his focus from where Percival splits him wide, parting the fullness of his soaked folds, where every inward thrust fills him to the brim. In the same salacious picture, his own hand strokes his leaking cock slow and tight in thrilling counterpoint.

"Keep fucking me and you'll find out." The sharp insolence of his words is undercut by the slurred thickness of his accent, the heaviness of his tongue in his mouth. After he speaks it hangs open obscenely, panting, as though he forgot to close it in his distraction, displaying the points of elongated white fangs against the dark, plush velvet of his lips.

Of course he's going to come, probably well before they've been at this long enough to coax out his alpha's knot. Along with the sensation of being filled, feeling Percival inside him brings with it a sense of wholeness. A manifestation of how inexorably connected they are made hot, pulsing, breathtaking, physical.

Gods, how did he end up with this man in his bed? As his partner? Essek is perfect in his sharp and breathless insolence and Percival would laugh if he could. Instead a grin appears, as best he can manage while he's panting. His fingers tighten where he pins his husband's hand to the bed, and despite the firm grip his thumb gently strokes against Essek's in an incongruously tender gesture.

"Oh, I intend to," he breathes. "We will make progress this time, my love."

As if they hadn't been just as intense during Essek's last heat. It's different now, though, with Percy in a complimenting rut that makes their needs match. Essek is always appealing, but now he is the center of Percival's world, to the exclusion of all else. He can feel the swell of his knot near the base of his cock and groans low in his chest the first time it sinks into Essek. Not enough to lock them together, not nearly, but gods it feels good as his mate's body yields to him.

Percy hisses a curse when he feels Essek tighten around him and he reaches to grab his lover's thigh, hiking it higher against his side as if they could truly get closer.

Progress. What a way to refer to their increasingly driven attempts to put a baby in his belly. Their fixation on this, and on each other, quickly eclipses everything else Essek might have been concerned with. What else really matters but the husband he loves and starting the family he deserves? Giving him this gift with his own body is an ultimate act of love, among the greatest he can imagine providing.

It is also extremely satisfying in the most salacious and base way possible. Sex was lackluster until he started having it with Percival, and sex during his heat brought a new layer of intensity. But the rush of this is more powerful still, a communion not only of body and instinct, but of heart and mind as well. Essek had no idea he was capable of this--of experiencing lust or love with such ferocity.

Swept away by his own pleasure, he pants softly, breath hitching as he feels his alpha's knot press past his entrance, a delicious stretch even before it is full. The way it spreads him has his cunt bearing down even harder as though to keep his cock inside, the sensation an electric spark that seems to set every nerve in his body alight. He clutches harder at Percival's hand where it holds his to the bed, eyes dark and hazy, lips still obscenely parted.

The angle shifts just enough when Percy raises his leg to strike something tender within him more directly, and his fingers close tightly around the head of his own cock, his thumb rubbing again and again across the sensitive tip. He's barely able to whimper, "Oh, Light," before an orgasm takes him. His thighs squeeze against his mate's sides and his back arches, his cunt pulsing along with his cock as he spills over his hand and his stomach. His eyes flutter closed and then open again, and his hips give a sharp, insistent roll--as much as they can while he is pinned to the bed this way, at least.

"More," he gasps, demands. "More, do not stop--"

There is the answer, then, to Percival's previous question. He did need his knot first, but not for long.

Essek is exceptionally beautiful when he's undone. Maybe that comes from the fact that Percy knows so few have seen him like this - possibly no one else, given the talks they've had. He knows this is a privilege and he cherishes what Essek has given him - what they've found with each other. He is reminded, daily, that all of this might be very different if but for a handful of moments.

"Do you know how perfect you are?" he pants, voice heavy and breathless. "How exquisite--Essek--"

Percival adores this man, worships him, and right now he wants nothing more than to ravish him and breed him until neither of them are capable of moving. He can feel the ache in his knot when it sinks into Essek, the slick, velvety passage tightening around him to keep him where he is. He leans down to kiss his husband's soft, slack mouth. Gods, the things he would do for this man--

He breathes in sharply as Essek shivers apart beneath him. The sweet, tight sound of his voice as he whimpers and the grip of his thighs, his hands, his cunt, make Percy feel dizzy. He drives as deep as he can on every thrust, no longer able to pull out quite as much as his knot swells further. Percival doesn't think he could stop if he wanted to right now, caught in the intense, demanding momentum of his need, his rut. It's only seconds later that he feels the pressure that makes him realize he can't pull out again and the growl that escapes him is half frustration and half relief.

Percy moans sharply, head bowed as the tension in him builds and snaps. He grips Essek's hand and thigh tightly, keeping their bodies close together as he keeps grinding against his husband even as he comes, cock throbbing with each pulse. He's panting hard, too dazed to even give proper praise. His mouth slides over the elegant line of Essek's ear and he bites at the lobe, unable to think at all. It should be terrifying how easily this man renders him mindless, but right now it only tells him that his mate is the perfect choice for him.

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