alignmyheart | au of an au

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.

His husband's breathless praise rings in Essek's ears, making him proud enough to preen if he were capable of more than writhing with raw need. As he's fucked into the bed, his sounds of pleasure are soft but emphatic, constant and encouraging. The peak of his orgasm fades, yet the discomfort of oversensitivity never sets in. He's held in a state of perpetual longing, sweet and hot; it feels like he'll never have enough of this man, even as he drives deep into him with his knot swelling to aching fullness.

The sharp tug as his body refuses to release him again is gratifying, a wave of warmth radiating from his tightly clenching cunt along his spine. The noise he makes as his mate's cock throbs with release inside him is so brazenly lewd he would be embarrassed if he weren't so distracted, a silky moan as shameless as it is sultry. It's followed by a sharper little whimper as blunt human teeth scrape at his sensitive ear and his own tense muscles twitch and quiver, from his thighs to his fingers.

Every thought has drained from his head. Every thought that is except yes, more, fill me. Those words exactly might even spill from his heavy tongue in slurred Undercommon.

The last time he lost himself so completely was months ago in a cave somewhere deep in the Parchwood Timberlands with the Wolf of Whitestone between his legs. The locale, at least, has improved this time.

He lifts his free hand, dripping with his own come, to his mouth. A wide, vulgar swipe of his tongue across his palm cleans his dark skin decently well, and he raises his fingers to his mate's face, where he traces the stubbled line of his jaw with an adoring fondness that borders on reverence. This man is his everything, and he would not have it otherwise.

Percival is certain that seeing Essek lick his own palm earns an extra pulse from his cock. He keeps his gaze on his husband's face as an elegant hand strokes along his jaw. He leans in for another kiss, wanting badly to taste Essek and finding this a reasonable compromise.

Slowly, Percival lowers his weight to rest on Essek's slighter frame. He kisses his mate again, sweeter now that the immediate need has momentarily passed. They won't get to rest long, but Percy takes comfort in the quet between them.

With a gentle squeeze, he releases Essek's hand in favor of getting both arms around his lithe figure. Percy drags Essek close to him, holding him against his chest to ensure they stay locked together. Percival manages to shift enough that he can lay back against the pillows. His arms relax bit stay draped around his husband's back as he encourages Essek to rest against him. His hands slide over the wizard's sides, back, and thighs in tender lazy caresses. Even like this, he can't get enough.

"Better?" Percy feels recovered enough to be a bit smug. Deep down he feels a simmering anxiety he knows must be tied to his rut: he wants this to work. He wants to produce an heir, not for the sake of Whitestone but simply because it is what they both want, and Percy realizes that urge runs much deeper that any biological imperative: he always wants to give Essek what he wants.

The first kiss is warm and languid and filthy, the second slower and softer as their pulses slow. Essek makes a noise in the back of his throat as Percy gathers him close to his sturdier human form and manhandles him until they've moved up on the bed to a more comfortable place against the pillows. He could assist by rendering himself a great deal lighter with his own spell, but at the moment he is taking a great deal of pleasure in his husband's strength, the power in the arms that hold him.

"For now," he responds airily, attempting to sound smug in return, and a great deal more composed than he feels. Both of his arms slide over Percival's shoulders, mirroring his legs framing his waist. They drape behind his neck, his fingers sifting through his lover's sweat-damp pale hair as he gazes up into his face with a slow, heavy blink and a lazy smirk.

His cunt still flutters with sweet little aftershocks, gently milking the cock continuing to spill inside him. Light, that's satisfying. His mind is still swimming, but for now, the current is warm and relaxing.

"Your mood seems to be much improved, my love," he points out, coyly teasing. Percival had certainly been in a stormy mood earlier, his rut making his temper short, especially while there were others in their vicinity. Though Essek himself hadn't been any better, but that doesn't bear acknowledging.

"It is," he agrees, even if Essek is teasing him. Being so far from home and suddenly entering an unexpected rut in a room full of people is not conducive to a good mood or any amount of patience. It didn't help that Essek started to experience symptoms of heat not long after. But now they are in a place that is familiar, one he has known from childhood, and a place he feels safe.

More than that, it's a place where they won't be interrupted unless there is some dire need.

Percival pulls Essek into another kiss, lingering there as his body calms as much as it can while still locked inside his mate. He strokes his fingers through Essek's hair as he they part. The last time Essek was in heat, it was easy to sequester themselves.

"Hopefully you don't have anything pressing to take care of for the week."

Essek goes happily into another sweet kiss, remaining close enough that his nose can brush over Percival's check and beneath his jaw afterward, breathing in deep. Light, if he'd thought his mate's scent was intoxicating during his last heat, the way he smells now in rut is going to drive him mad.

"Mm. If I did, I have already forgotten it," he murmurs, lips curling into another little smirk. "What could be more pressing than this?"

Sometimes these things happen, especially to new couples. They'll be forgiven any missed appointments. Their marriage is more than a year old now, so newly wed would probably no longer be applicable in human circles, but they haven't been having sex for nearly that long. In retrospect, it's remarkable how quickly Essek shifted from wariness to desire to sharing his heat with intent. Most elves, especially Kryn drow, take much longer with these decisions. But Essek has never been typical of his people, and with a human partner, he doesn't have the luxury of time. He knows what he feels and he knows what he wants.

He seeks another kiss as his hands wander his husband's body, skimming planes of warm, scarred pale skin stretched over surprisingly firm muscle. There is an appreciative little hum in the back of his throat as his hands sweep lightly down Percival's chest as far as their position allows, then circle around to his back. Light, his back muscles really are something to be admired.

He nudges his nose against Essek's cheek. He'd never known - or hoped - he could feel so centered or so connected to another person. Essek has given him this gift out of an impossible situation. His hands rest on Essek's thighs as his husband's run over his torso and around to his back.

He stopped adventuring maybe a year before Essek came into his life, but that hasn't changed him much yet. Especially not when he keeps up regular target practice, muscles built both from hauling something like Bad News around and holding the pepperboxes, but also from absorbing the kick with every shot. Then there's all the building he does, not all of it fine manual work.

Percy looks at his husband, just drinking him in. He shifts his hips just slightly, testing to see how tied they still are. He's pretty sure his knot is going down, but he sees no need to try and separate just yet.

"I think--Essek, I think we'll run into the same problem as your heat," he says after a moment. "If I recall, a full moon is coming in the next few days..."

Essek's breath catches as Percy's hips rock just enough to shift the knot inside him. A new flare of sensation surges through his body like an agitated wave, adding to the pooled heat in his core. His toes curl against the bedsheets, and he feels his foot nudge the silken texture of his own robe, still spread out atop the covers.

"Ah." It takes a moment to collect himself again, but Essek remembers. Percival is right; it is the same as the previous incident, or nearly so. A day or so of difference. If he is remembering correctly, the full moon should occur as soon as tomorrow night. They'd had to plan the timing of their visit to Westruun very carefully because of it, and could only make the trip at all because Essek could teleport them home before Percival would need to depart for the Timberlands. "So we will."

There is a part of Essek--several parts of Essek, actually, one of which flutters around his alpha's cock in eager anticipation--that thrills at this recollection. His first shared heat was an intense experience, made still more so by passing the first several days with his beloved in his wolf form. It was new and strange and affirming and exhilarating, and though he wouldn't necessarily have planned it this way, it is an experience he is very willing to repeat. The sex was...well, there is a reason he's made an effort over the last few months to make that cave a more livable place. He intends to spend time there in the future, so as not to leave his poor Percival in solitude.

"It is good, then, that I have made prior preparations," he points out sensibly. "We will be much more comfortable this time than the last."

Percival can't help but notice the way Essek's body responds to the news. His breath catches quietly and he tries to give his husband a look that could pass as stern. The first time Essek ever saw him as a wolf was not ideal, with his mate freshly entering his heat. They made it work and Percy doesn't regret it: it allowed them to bond in a way they hadn't yet, and it gave him a comfort he couldn't have expected. Essek doesn't think he's a monster.

But that doesn't change the fact that he could hurt his husband, badly, and now he'll be in his rut on top of being a giant wolf.

"Essek, this isn't like the last time," he insists quietly, imploring his mate to see that. "I don't... know what rut looks like when I'm like that."

It hasn't really been an issue. His ruts had been infrequent and unpredictable before Essek came into his life. He'd been warned that might change if he and Essek were serious about spending Essek's heats together.

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