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The first time James Wright met Peter Lukas was at a donor banquet for the Magnus Institute. James hosted the event every year as a thank you to their patrons, and to learn of any new developments about the powers worth noting.
The banquets were always exquisite. James hosted them every winter, catered by top London restaurants, and served with an open bar and music. While several attendees served The Lonely, the institute staff and several Vast-aligned individuals tended to lighten up the evening. All parties agreed on a truce for the night of the event, and it gave James a chance to truly mingle.
James nursed his second glass of wine that evening, speaking briefly with Simon Fairchild. Simon spoke dreamily about the possibilities of exploring space. The recent developments from the space race enticed him, and he knew there was so much fear associated with space exploration. James offered little in response, but politely hummed and nodded appropriately, enough to mask his disinterest.
Then Peter Lukas walked in. James held the glass to his lip and watched the tall man slip into the crowd from across the room. There was a fog in his mind, making it difficult to read. A common phenomena among those that served the Lonely. However James was able to catch a glimpse of– something. Intrigue maybe?
“Simon.” James interrupted. “The man that just walked in. Is he a Lukas?”
Simon scanned the crowd before nodding yes. “Ah, Peter.” He responded. “Captain of the Tundra. I'm surprised you noticed him. The Lonely's hold on that one is–”
“Strong. Right.” James said, setting down his drink. He cut Simon off to find Peter Lukas. James made his way into the small crowd, ignoring the surrounding conversation, to tap on Peter's shoulder. The man looked almost surprised when he turned to meet James’ gaze. Peter had reddish-brown hair and wore a full beard. James assumed that even without the beard, he'd still possess a strong jawline. His eyes were dark, and his skin was the same pale color as the rest of his family.
But the grin that appeared across his face at the sight of James was something the man had never seen in a Lukas. The feeling dulled by the fog in Peter’s mind was easier to read up close– curiosity.
And James was indeed curious.
“I don't believe we've met.” He returned Peter's smile and extended his hand. “James Wright. Head of the institute.”
Peter played along and shook James' hand; the other man's doubled in size, engulfing his own hand with a firm shake. He was likely a decade or two younger than James.
“Peter Lukas. Although I suspect you might already know that.” That voice. The almost-stoic like demeanor contrasted with Peter's cheery smile. He couldn't help but to return the man's grin.
“You assumed correctly. Did Nathaniel send you in his place this evening?”
Peter responded with a nod as the music changed to a waltz. Peter held out his hand again.
“Do you dance, James?” In later retellings of the event, James would blame the first glass of wine for the red in his cheeks. Peter was so forward, especially for the times. Two men dancing together would potentially create unwanted chatter among the guests– but James couldn’t find it in him to care. And Peter’s curiosity was invigorating.
“I do. But a Lonely's servant in a waltz?” He cocked an eyebrow, but took Peter's hand– almost too quickly. Peter pulled James in and led them to the middle of the floor. The fog dissipated a little more– Peter wanted to see where this would go.
James didn't need to read the minds of the other guests to know all eyes were on them.
“There's an incredible loneliness that people feel when seeing others dance. The reminder that they don't have a partner. Those eyes aren't on them.” Peter responded in James’ ear.
“Did you forget we have a no feeding rule tonight?” James countered, allowing Peter to spin him. James was back in Peter's arms with a firm grip around the sailor’s waist. Peter was in his ear again, offering a content hum of thought. They danced along effortlessly to the music.
“No one will be harmed tonight, James. But our gods will take what they can despite our human inclination for things like truces. You're saying you're not enjoying being watched?” He laughed, his hand placed on the small of James’ back.
Peter had a point. He was sure they all fed despite their agreements in some form or another. And he wasn't going to stop an interesting dance with an interesting man.
They danced for a while, eventually other attendees joined the floor, leaving the two of them alone together in the crowd. The fog completely covered Peter’s mind now.
James wouldn't let himself think too much about Peter's striking resemblance to Mordechai.
The music of the fourth song ended and James broke their dance, pulling himself from Peter's grip proved more difficult than he'd ever admit.
“You're a lovely dance partner, Peter Lukas.” James said with a smile. “Maybe do return sometime if you ever don't want to feel like a stranger.” Peter smiled.
“Night’s not over, is it? We could get a drink?” James smiled, not surprised that he was willing to leave his own party for better company.
–
Peter picked the pub; a tiny dive near the docks that had roughly four other patrons and one bartender. He ordered himself and James a drink, sitting them down at a booth in the far back corner of the pub. Peter slung back his whiskey while James sipped a gin and tonic. He could feel the loneliness in the bar, seeing the glow on Peter’s skin as he took in the energy. Peter’s god can be much easier to satisfy at times than The Eye.
“This seems a bit more your taste.” James commented. Peter was at ease, no longer wearing the suave demeanor that drew James to him when he entered the banquet. However, he was still charming in the way his body took up space in the booth. He wasn’t imposing, but commanded his space so effortlessly. He drank whiskey without a care and kept his same interested smile.
“I’m not much for the big functions. Usually I can get a voyage scheduled to avoid these parties but this year Nathaniel insisted.” Peter rolled his eyes as he spoke. “But bars like these tend to be a nice place to feed. Not a big crowd, and those that come in–” He inhaled sharply “-- They’re just so lonely.”
James smiled. He enjoyed hearing others talk about their gods. The mix of fear and delight that brought them to their patrons in the first place. Peter looked James over again before getting up to get another drink.
They drank and talked for a while, James was surprised at how chatty Peter was for a Lukas. He continued to think of Mordechai, before he fully became a part of the Forsaken. James just listened, hearing about his life on the Tundra and his few run-ins with Mikaele Silasa. James grinned as Peter shared his stories.
“You’re always welcome to come by and make a statement.” He said, finishing his drink. Peter scoffed.
“Our gods may be close, but I’m perfectly fine with avoiding your institute.” He countered. James raised an eyebrow.
“Would you avoid my home?” Peter smirked.
They left the bar. There was an electrifying feeling between them on the cab ride back to James’ home. The fog was present, but the feelings of desire crept at the forefront of Peter’s mind.
As soon as the door to James’ home closed, Peter’s hands gripped his waist, pushing him into the door for a heavy kiss. His touch was firm, like when they were dancing, but less polished. His hands explored James’ as his tongue went along his mouth. James appreciated the forwardness, allowing him to match the energy, his own hands moving up Peter’s shirt to undo the buttons.
“I have a bedroom if you’d prefer.” He mumbled when Peter pulled his mouth off of his and onto James’ neck. The other man grunted in response.
The sex was rough and quick. Peter left indents into James’ hips from holding him steady. He came quickly with James following suit. Peter didn’t speak after that, rather, he collapsed onto the bed after exiting James and moved to the far end of the king sized mattress.
James cleaned up, and by the time he laid back down, Peter was asleep.
James woke up the next morning alone.
–
Peter Lukas began attending the annual institute donor banquets. He always arrived late, leaving James slightly antsy that he wouldn’t show at all, but the routine from their first encounter was always the same. They would leave the event, drink more at a pub, and end back at James’ house.
Peter would stay the night, but leave by morning. For days after, James would absentmindedly press his hips as the bruises healed. Their tradition continued for a few years, sometimes Peter didn’t attend, James assuming he’d successfully scheduled a voyage.
–
Elias Bouchard honored the traditions of his predecessor. In his first year as head of the institute, he held the same annual banquets to thank their donors and show appreciation for their staff. Reading the minds of his senior staff, including his Archivist, Gertrude Robinson, the gossip around the institute was that Elias tried too hard to emulate James. He smiled to himself, enjoying his own private joke as he kicked off the event with a short speech thanking all for their hard work and contributions to the institute.
His eyes trailed to the late arrival of the tall sailor. Peter always tried to slip in late, to go unnoticed, but Elias was waiting. He finished his speech and let the attendees begin their festivities. Elias didn’t immediately greet Peter, rather, he mingled with other donors as James would at previous parties.
About an hour into the party, Elias requested that the string quartet play a waltz. The music switched to a familiar tune. Elias used the opportunity to greet Peter Lukas.
“Almost takes one back, doesn’t it?” He asked from behind Peter. The other man turned around, eyes narrowed onto Elias’ features. The fog of the lonely always kept his mind difficult to read, but Elias could feel Peter’s focus on his eyes. Clever man.
“You could say that.” Peter finally responded, throwing back his drink. Elias grinned and extended a hand.
“Care to dance, Peter?”
They moved the same as always, Peter led with his firm grip around Elias’ waist. This body was shorter than James Wright, but of course, younger. He moved easily, getting into the same rhythm he always had with his dance partner. He watched as Peter continued studying his movements, their dance, finally making the realization just as the song ended.
“It’s– Elias, is it?” He asked, letting him go. Elias nodded in response.
“Would you like to grab a drink elsewhere?” Elias asked with a smirk. Peter grinned.
“I have a bar in mind.”
–
They maintained their routine, Peter ordered a lot of whiskey while Elias nursed a gin and tonic. For a while, they sat in silence. Elias knew Peter was adjusting, picking and choosing the questions he wanted to ask.
“So you were him? James?” He finally began, eyes locked onto Elias’.
“I was, still am, I suppose.” Elias answered thoughtfully. Peter tapped the table and chewed his lip. Elias enjoyed watching the wrinkles twitch on his forehead as he thought about how to proceed.
“Were you him then? Jonah Magnus?” Elias shivered when he heard the name.
“It’s always nice not to feel forgotten.” He smiled. Peter’s eyes widened.
“So you’ve just been taking back over all of this time like–”
“Rayner.” Elias finished. “Exactly.” Peter shifted back in the booth and let out a laugh.
“And to think I almost didn’t show up tonight.” Elias tried to ignore the ache in his chest at the thought.
“You didn’t want to continue your tradition of sleeping with the head of the Magnus Institute?” He cocked an eyebrow.
“You should know by now Ja– Elias –” Peter stumbled, there was a slight struggle on his face. How easy it was for Peter to fall back into routine. “I’ve never been that flashy.”
Elias considered the statement while taking a sip of his drink. Peter wasn’t flashy. In fact, he was rather kind of a brute. Sure he has the Lukas wealth and money, but the personality he’d adopted was much less polished. He drank like a fish, he was careless in bed, took what he wanted, and left when he was done; only leaving bruises in his trace.
Peter's mind was clearer than usual– it allowed Elias to see that the absence of James Wright gave a sense of loneliness that Peter enjoyed. James being back in a different form had the opposite effect. Elias tried not to read too much into where that put him and Peter. Although the satisfaction was difficult to hide.
“Does that mean you won’t come home with me?” Elias cocked an eyebrow. Peter set down his empty glass.
“Let’s not jump to conclusions.”
–
They were at Elias’ home within the hour. He watched Peter observe the similarities to the home he owned as James Wright. Elias tried to stay with current trends, keeping some of his older and more cherished relics hidden in plain sight. Peter didn’t look for long, already pulling Elias’ chin up to meet his. Peter kissed him roughly and eagerly, tasting the same as he always had. Elias kissed back with the same excitement.
“You’re a better kisser than James.” Peter commented after pulling them apart. Elias laughed into the other man’s neck.
“Come now, Peter. I think I’m just new.” Peter hummed a little as he contemplated the statement. He kissed Elias again, softer this time. His hand wrapped around Elias’ waist, underneath his shirt to feel his skin. Elias couldn’t help but wonder if his skin was softer too.
“I want your clothes off.” Peter said, moving to undo the buttons of Elias’ shirt. Elias allowed himself to be undressed. Peter took his time, his large hands fumbling around the fabric. Elias lazily trailed his hands around the man’s waist, feeling the rough skin underneath his shirt.
With his shirt finally off, Peter’s hands moved across his chest and back. Elias whined softly at the touch. Peter pulled him again, placing a wet kiss on the man’s neck and moving to remove his pants.
“Do you want to move to the bedroom?” Elias asked, breathless. They currently stood in his living room.
“Lead the way.” Peter motioned, hands still on Elias’ waist.
Elias moved quickly to the bedroom, the setup matching James’ old one almost exactly. If Peter noticed, he didn’t comment. He pushed Elias onto the bed and finished removing his pants. Peter undid his own pants and underwear quickly, not bothering with taking off his shirt. He kissed Elias again before sticking his fingers into the other man’s mouth.
Elias was used to Peter’s rough handling, in fact, he’d come to enjoy how both quiet and rough Peter was. He let the man’s fingers fuck his mouth for a moment, enjoying the sensation. With his cock now exposed, Elias stroked the other man’s erection. Peter’s mouth was back on Elias’ neck, grunting into his skin.
Peter removed his fingers from Elias' mouth, sliding his hand down the man’s bare chest to his ass, spreading his cheeks open. Elias moaned as he spread his legs, allowing for Peter to enter with his first finger. “Let’s see how tight you are compared to your previous body.” Peter said with amusement.
Elias continued stroking Peter, his cock getting firmer in his hands. Peter slid in another finger, Elias’ own cock hard against Peter’s stomach. Peter’s free hand pressed firmly into Elias’ hip; he felt the sharp pressure of a bruise beginning to form.
Finally, Peter inserted a third finger. Elias gasped into the other man’s neck, feeling Peter work to stretch him. He heard Peter’s breath hitch. Peter pushed Elias on his back, cowering over him as he laid on the bed. Elias’ hands moved from Peter’s cock to his sides, anticipating the other man’s entry inside him. Peter placed a deep kiss on Elias’ mouth as he slid his cock in. They both let out shaky moans.
“Fuck you are tight.” Peter said into Elias’ mouth, already bucking his hips. Elias gripped onto Peter's shoulder, taking him in. He moaned, moving in rhythm with Peter.
They stayed moving that way for a while, Elias panting louder than Peter. He always had of course, Peter was often quiet. He’d let out the occasional moan or grunt that sent a different wave of pleasure across Elias’ body.
Peter's rhythm began to falter, his grip on Elias’ hips hardened. Elias relished in the forming bruise, moaning alongside Peter as he came inside him. He looked at the soft glean of sweat coating Peter's forehead. Elias smiled for a moment before Peter's hands moved from Elias’ hips to his cock.
Elias wasn't far behind Peter, he came into the other man's hand, neck thrown back and eyes closed as he released.
Peter fell back beside Elias, both of them spent and recovering. They were silent. Elias was used to the quiet that came with Peter Lukas.
After a few moments, Elias got up to shower, not feeling the need to let Peter know. He moved delicately into his bathroom. Once the water was on, he closed his eyes and focused on the heat and steam relaxing his body.
He jerked when he felt another hand on his shoulder. Elias turned quickly to see Peter behind him, fully nude and a delighted look in eyes.
“You startled me.” Elias confessed. Peter laughed.
“I do that.”
After they showered, they both laid down in Elias' bed. Peter was asleep within moments, and Elias used the opportunity to coil into his body. Despite his size, Peter wasn't very warm. Or inviting. But he was familiar.
The familiarity continued when Elias woke up to an empty bed in the morning.
–
“Marriage.” Elias repeated the words back to Peter. They sat in an office in Moorland House, Elias may have been to this office, or another given the bottom floor of the mansion housed several offices for Lukas business. They all looked the same. The rooms all had the same wooden desk in the center of the room across from two stiff wooden chairs. Elias noted the only changes throughout the decades was the upgrade in technology.
As of late, Elias saw Peter much more frequently in a business capacity. Nathaniel was too focused with other duties for the Forsaken, leaving the younger Lukas tasked with institute related affairs. They met more than once a year now, Elias finding excuses for business meetings or procured artifacts, anything that had the potential to end with Peter Lukas in his bed. Peter never seemed bothered by their encounters, but was always gone by morning. Elias was often the one to initiate, another predicament of their relationship he had to accept. Peter’s god didn’t like being watched.
Nathaniel called for Elias to meet them for business that morning, but it was Peter who greeted him at the door. The Lonely fogged Peter’s mind, but Elias saw a snippet of him and Nathaniels’ conversation
“Since you two seem to work so well together.” Nathaniel told him, eyes narrowed at the word together. Peter huffed.
When Peter led Elias to the cookie-cutter office, he immediately informed him that the Lukas family wanted them wedded. Peter said the words with a straight face, giving no inclination of his own feelings on the matter. Elias tried his best to hold his emotions in, an easier accomplishment given the place of worship he’d found himself in.
“The Lukas family can continue its support in institute affairs, and create revenue with the two of us being married.
“So a formality.” Elias stated.
“With benefits.” Peter smiled. Elias tried to ignore the flutter in his stomach.
–
Lukas weddings had varying levels of tradition. Given that a marriage between two men was only recognized by half the family, and the idea was predominantly for business, Peter and Elias got away with a small ceremony on the grounds. The ceremony was held outside on a dreary day. Elias noticed the glow in Peter’s face at the absent guests. The fog covered his new husband's mind so well Elias had to rely completely on deductive reasoning if he needed to determine his thoughts.
They didn't kiss in front of the family.
There was a small reception, mostly attended by a handful of Lukas cousins. Some family members Elias met previously dealing with institute affairs. None of them spoke more than a nod and quiet “congratulations,” mostly to Peter. Elias continued to observe their strange traditions, sipping a glass of champagne, when Peter finally put his hand around his waist.
“Not quite like the institute functions, hm?” He asked. Peter's face was warm from feeding and likely the half a pint of whiskey Elias watched him down throughout the evening.
“My caterers are better.” Was his retort, unable to help himself from sliding into Peter's touch. Peter noticed, pulling Elias’ hips further into him. He lowered his face to Elias’ ear.
“Care to start our honeymoon?” His breath was hot and smelled of whiskey. Elias breathed him in.
“Can we go back to my place?” He asked. “I'm not having sex with you here.” Peter let out a loud laugh. Had any non-Lukas guests been in attendance, it may have generated attention.
“Whatever the missus wants.”
Peter clearly couldn't drive, Elias ordered them a cab back home, already thinking of how he'd insist on invoicing his– in-laws– for the expense.
Once the two arrived at Elias' home, Peter pushed him against the living room wall. Elias didn't even have the chance to take off his coat; Peter's mouth was rough, he moved from Elias’ lips to his neck, biting at the skin.
Elias’ hands were around Peter's waist, holding onto the man’s hips as he continued to mark him. For a moment the fog that surrounded Peter's mind let up. Elias heard the man's thoughts.
My husband.
The thought played over and over throughout the night. When Peter grabbed Elias’ shirt collar and told him he wanted him naked. When they both stripped down and Peter pulled Elias onto the bed. When Peter couldn't wait, grumbled that he wanted inside Elias before he could properly stretch him.
My husband.
Over and over again when they both climaxed, Elias gripping onto the sheets and Peter gripping Elias.
My husband.
And finally, after they'd showered and laid down, Elias let himself be wrapped up by Peter's confusingly cool body.
Elias was alone in the morning. There was a note on the end table that said Peter went to sea. He wasn't expected back for some time.
–
The two fell into another familiar routine. Peter came around every few months. Sometimes he'd stay for a day, other times, often when business was involved, he'd stay a week or two.
He didn't always stay with Elias. When Peter did have an extended stay at his home (Elias knew it was never truly theirs), they'd fall asleep together, but Peter would always be the first to rise in the morning, leaving his side of the bed empty.
Sometimes, and very rarely in the three or so years they'd been married, Peter made breakfast. He wasn't a great cook, Elias was better, but he always appreciated the effort.
One morning, toward the end of one of Peter's longer stays, Elias woke up to the smell of brewed coffee. He walked out into his kitchen in a sleep shirt and pants to see Peter frying bacon. He cooked the same way he did everything, silently. Once he noticed Elias, he turned his head and offered a small smile.
“Do you ever cook at home?” Peter asked, moving back to flip the bacon over “I was lucky to find anything in your refrigerator. I was honestly surprised that you even had eggs.” Elias laughed, pouring himself a cup of coffee and sitting at the island across from the stove.
“When I have a reason to.” He sipped his coffee. “Like a guest.”
Peter transferred the bacon onto a plate that already had eggs and toast. He handed the plate to Elias and sat next to him with his own plate.
“Am I a guest?” Peter asked. Elias tried to peek into his mind, the fog was ever present. but he noticed the vague sense of– something. Elias couldn’t tell if Peter was feeling doubt, guilt, or simply the need for reassurance. He took a bite of his bacon, contemplating his answer.
“You’re my husband.” Elias finally stated. He watched Peter think over the answer, and he accepted it as he took a bite of his own eggs. Whatever the feelings were had been engulfed in fog.
–
“Are you always at sea when you’re away?” Elias asked one night. He hadn’t seen Peter in half a year. He was starting to think something may have happened, and he didn’t want to acknowledge the feelings of relief when he saw Peter sitting in his– (their? He had a key now at least) – living room one evening when he returned home from a long day at the institute. Peter was drinking, presumably whiskey, on the couch, when Elias walked in.
The fog in Peter’s mind was impenetrable, Elias didn’t care. He wasn’t worried about intentions or thoughts, he wanted contact. He moved quickly to straddle Peter’s lap, placing wet, almost desperate kisses on his husband’s neck.
Peter laughed– making a some vulgar comment about Elias not being properly fucked when he wasn’t around, then carried them into the bedroom with Elias' legs wrapped around his body. The sex was rough and quick, leaving them both panting and content as they laid next to one another. That’s when Elias asked where Peter went while he was away.
Peter paused for a moment before answering, Elias was used to letting the man take his time to respond. He wasn’t even sure how often he spoke to other people– even though when Peter did speak, he was fairly chatty. Despite himself, Elias enjoyed listening.
“Most of the time I’m at sea. I have my own work and research too you know– it’s not all throwing people to the Lonely.” He laughed, his hand reaching around Elias’ pillow. Without thinking too much about it, Elias curled into Peter’s bare chest. They both lay naked, Elias ran his fingers absentmindedly through Peter’s chest hair.
“I thought that was the main component.” He admitted, his eyes growing heavy with sleep. Elias also felt the effects if he tried too hard to look into Peter’s mind– the fog wrapping him in a daze. He didn’t realize he was even looking.
“Sure, but sometimes I work on my own things. My own ritual attempts.” He shrugged. Elias looked up then, meeting Peter’s eyes. His face remained neutral. Elias cocked an eyebrow.
“Is that so?” Peter just shrugged. Elias couldn’t press further, he was already falling asleep despite the overwhelming urge to learn what the Lonely could possibly be up to.
Peter was gone in the morning.
–
“So you finally did in Gertrude Robinson?” Peter asked with a chuckle, sipping whiskey across from Elias in the corner booth of their usual annual dive bar. Even though they had a more domestic lifestyle, Peter still occasionally showed up at the annual banquets at a professional capacity. That evening, Peter arrived at the very end of the night, and Elias was the only one to notice him. Given the year the institute had with the Prentiss attack, Elias almost didn’t want to hold a banquet. But, his head Archivist was slowly losing touch with reality and he could tell everyone needed to blow off some steam.
Elias was talking to Jon, encouraging him to do something other than mutter to himself in the corner, when he noticed the presence of the familiar fog. He excused himself, and in minutes took off to the bar with Peter. They hadn’t seen one another for the better part of two years. Elias finally adjusted to his long periods of absence, but was quick to get as much time with his husband as he could when he returned..
“Is it possible that the elderly woman just passed away?” Elias countered, an eyebrow raised as he stirred his gin and tonic. Peter laughed again.
“I’m pretty sure that woman would have outlived all of us if it meant adding more and more of our lot to piss off.” Elias smiled, remembering he hadn’t shared his most recent theory with Peter.
“Well Jonathan Sims knows nothing about his predecessor’s– hobbies.” Elias stated. “And I intend to keep a closer watch on this one.” In a rare moment, Peter cocked an eyebrow, clearly caught off guard that Elias had a plan.
“What’s this, Elias? You finally believe me about the Extinction?” Peter asked with a grin. The fog dissipated enough for Elias to see his curiosity but also– concern.
Elias would be the one to pull this off.
“I’ve been testing a few theories. I think you’re right in acting before the full emergence. And Gertrude was becoming a complication.” Elias admitted.
“Would have been nice if you’d stopped her a little sooner.” He scoffed. “So you’re trying out the Watcher’s Crown yet again?’ Elias laughed, unable to ignore the way the ritual’s name rolled off the tongue. How Peter sounded just like Mordechai.
“Your’s would’ve failed anyway. Gertrude’s life’s work may have been a waste of time.” Peter’s eyes narrowed.
“Care to share with the class, Elias?”
“I think I’m allowed to keep my secrets.” Elias responded, taking a long sip of his drink. Peter’s eyes moved back and forth from the table to Elias as he thought.
“Clearly your new Archivist has something to do with this. I admit, I watched you two for a moment before making my presence known.” He swung back his drink.
“Are you jealous, Peter?” The fog surrounded the sailor’s mind, the Forsaken loved the isolating emotion of jealousy.
“Not in the slightest.”
They changed the topic, discussing artifacts and a handful of Leitners Peter acquired from his recent trip at sea. Some he’d donate to the institute. Elias tried to press for more business but Peter said he was tired of talking about the institute off the clock.
“I have better use for your mouth, Elias.” Peter didn’t have to say more to get the both of them up and return to Elias’ (and occasionally Peter’s) home.
When they got home and in bed, Peter’s hands moved to take off Elias’ shirt, followed by his own. The other man’s mouth bit hard marks down Elias’ torso. Elias’ hands gripped into Peter’s hair as he breathed out. Peter sat up, removing his own pants and underwear, shaking them off to the end of the bed. Elias didn’t have long to miss the contact before Peter’s hands were back on his body.
Peter grabbed the hand that was in his hair and pinned it to the bed. With a fluid motion, he kept Elias laid down and pumped his own cock for a moment before shoving it into Elias’ mouth. He was already hard, and Elias had to work to hollow his cheeks to accommodate. Peter fucked his mouth, his hand that wasn’t holding Elias’ down moved to the man’s hair, performing the same gripping motions as Elias had earlier.
Elias’ tongue licked at Peter’s base, he watched the man’s eyes roll back into his head. He gave another hard buck of his hips, not caring how far he went down Elias’ throat.
“Fuck that feels good.” Peter whispered, Elias felt the fog wane in the man’s mind.
Mine
Elias bobbed his head, trying hard to clear as much of the fog, to get a glimpse into Peter’s thoughts when he could. Peter’s grip moved from Elias’ hair to the nape of his neck, holding his head still.
Elias’s free hand scratched down Peter’s back as he let out a muffled moan. Peter started losing rhythm. He thrusted deep into Elias’ mouth. He came quickly after, the liquid filling Elias’ throat. He swallowed, taking his hand off of Peter’s back as the other man released his grip.
Peter’s eyes glistened, he smiled at Elias with a post-orgasm haze. Once he was off the other man, Elias’ own hands went to his cock to touch himself. The image was overpowering, the flood of arousal flowing out of Peter’s mind overwhelmed Elias with pleasure. He let out a few shaky breaths before Peter’s hand moved to his hand over Elias’.
Their hands moved in tandem around Elias’ cock until he came onto his stomach, head burrowed into Peter’s shoulder. Peter’s arm wrapped around his back, pulling him tight. The two sat there for a moment, catching their breaths.
Elias moved to clean up. When he laid back on the bed, Peter grabbed him and pulled him close. He moved his hands up and down Elias’ back. They didn’t speak. Elias felt the haze of the fog returning in Peter’s mind.
His Archivist.
Was Peter’s last thought before the fog took over. Elias enjoyed the coolness of Peter's skin as he fell asleep.
–
“So you're going through with it, then? The Watcher’s Crown?” Peter asked between a bite of potatoes. He'd shown up before dinner. His previous visit was only four months ago, and he hardly ever showed up before evening. But Elias called him early from a voyage. Things were moving too quickly with Jon and he needed to make sure his bases were covered. Peter wasn’t happy– but given it was the first time Elias had ever called him home, he returned. Elias cooked them dinner and caught him up on institute affairs.
Jon was starting to know. Everything. Elias heard him record statements written in languages he knew Jon didn't speak, he provided Elias with information he possibly had no idea of knowing, and he was compelling the staff and other avatars. Elias was thrilled, but knew he'd need to arrange a leave before Jon learned his plan.
“Jon's on the right path. I believe if everything goes well with his plan to stop the Unknowing, it will be safe to say I need to leave the institute.” Elias said as if he were discussing something mundane, trying to hide his deep excitement from his husband. Either the facade worked, or Peter was disinterested enough not to notice.
“And you think I should be the one to take on that responsibility, Elias?”
Elias grinned “I don't know who else would be suitable other than my husband.” Peter laughed. Their marriage felt more like a private joke than a sacred union.
Peter waited a long moment, taking another bite of the chicken on his plate. He chewed his food as he considered the offer. “I simply can't agree to something this– tedious – without some sort of wager.”
Elias raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?”
“I want one of your staff. Someone to swear to the Forsaken.”
Elias clicked his tongue. His mouth was a thin line, unamused. “Why?”
Peter smiled. “To ruffle your feathers of course. And if I win, I want your institute.”
“What?” Elias’ eyebrows furrowed. Peter had often been irritating and obnoxious, but Elias wondered if he lost his mind on his last trip to sea.
“Listen, Elias. If you win, this won't matter, will it? His last mark is with me, so I'll make sure that happens if I lose. And if you lose, you give someone else a turn.”
Elias' eyes narrowed on his soon to be ex husband with the way the man was speaking. Peter laughed again.
“You're cute when you're flustered.” Peter said with a cocky grin. Elias took a breath, trying to maintain his composure. The fog in the sailor's mind evaporated slightly, but all Elias could read was his arrogance. The smug and foolish thought that Elias would fail.
“Fine. Your terms are– accepted.” He got up, taking his half finished plate and Peter's to put in the sink.
Peter came up behind him and grabbed Elias’ hips. He effortlessly turned Elias’ body to face him.
“Kiss on it.” Peter's face was barely an inch from his.
Elias closed their gap and pressed their mouths together. Peter bit hard on Elias’ bottom lip, drawing blood. The other man's tongue slid across the mark. Peter pulled them apart.
“Then it's a deal.”
–
Elias maintained a true devotee to Beholding. He waited in his cell, watching, as Peter attempted to forsake Martin Blackwood. He watched Jon struggle, clinging to the idea of Martin he’d built in his head to deal with his loss of humanity. Jon waited and hoped for glimpses of Martin while the other fell more and more into Peter’s truths.
Or so he thought.
Walking out of prison had only been a matter of time. Elias was bothered that he could still never see Peter’s full plan– the fog always encompassing his mind. He saw the fog beginning to cover Martin too– making it difficult to know his true intentions. In the beginning, Martin was playing Peter, but now Elias wasn’t so sure. He worried that his husband’s isolation attempts were starting to entice his assistant.
What Elias could see was Peter researching diligently on the Extinction, and based on the terms of their wager– he wanted the institute to stop its arrival on his terms. Peter would act alone, as was his character, but Elias couldn’t help that it still hurt that he wouldn’t at least give Elias’ plan a try.
So it was time to end his charade as a captive and return home.
He waited patiently at the panopticon for the arrival of Peter and Martin. He didn’t want to admit the pang in his chest when he heard Peter telling the other man he needed to kill him. Elias felt betrayed– like his secrets could so easily be told to anyone by his spouse.
After he made his presence known to the two, he felt the fog dissolving in both their minds. In Martin's mind he could see much more clearly– he did indeed intend to betray Peter. And Jon would join them soon. If only Peter hadn’t made this more complicated than it needed to be.
The fog returned at full force once Peter learned of Martin’s deception, delighting Elias more than it should. Once Jon went to recover Martin from the Lonely, he confronted Peter.
“So your plan all along was to get here? Marry me to wait for an opportunity to get into the institute? Use one of my own staff for a connection to Ceaseless Watcher. And then kill me?” Elias asked, keeping his tone neutral. Peter didn’t answer, he pulled the other man to his side and kissed him roughly. Elias kissed back, angry and hungry – the time in prison made him miss the contact, despite how angry he currently was. Peter’s fog continued to dissolve.
The other man pulled them apart with heavy breath. “My duty is to my god first and always, Elias.” He answered, but kept their heads pressed together. Peter’s mind was the clearest Elias had ever seen it. The man’s thoughts were almost overpowering. Elias wanted to drink them all in– to know Peter like he’d never had. He pulled their lips together again in desperation for physical and mental closeness. Elias saw everything.
Once Peter discovered Elias’ trick to cheat death, the Lukas family seized the opportunity to get as close to the Eye as their patron allowed. The idea for the two to wed was Nathaniel’s, he told Peter that eventually Elias would drop his guard and allow Peter free access to the institute. Peter agreed because of his devotion to The Forsaken, but he also enjoyed Elias’ company.
Their marriage went too well. Peter liked their intimacy, Elias’ cooking, thoughts and ideas on their world. He’d find himself missing their time together when he was at sea. He’d think of Elias sleeping, clinging onto Peter in the middle of the night when he didn’t realize what he was doing. He'd whisper Peter's name in his sleep. Peter fought with the difficulty of leaving before morning. He’d place a light kiss on Elias’ cheek, taking in the moment before he'd revel in the isolation the coming months or sometimes years would bring.
Peter waited a long time to act on getting into the institute, longer than Nathaniel wanted. He always came up with excuses to avoid an attempt at getting in. But then, Elias murdered Gertrude Robinson and began molding Jon for the Watcher’s Crown. Peter couldn’t tell if he was acting out of urgency or the feelings of jealousy he had for Jon. Elias got to see his Archivist every day, could read his mind and share his devotion to their patron. With that jealousy, Peter strengthened his connection to the Lonely and devised his own plan to stop the Extinction.
Peter may have subconsciously picked Martin Blackwood because of his feelings for Jon. With Elias in jail and Jon in a coma, both Peter and Martin were left alone. He knew how to play on these emotions, shaping Martin into the servant that he needed. Peter had to give credit to Elias for leading Jon to more than one mark, devoting Martin was exhausting. When Jon awakened, Peter hoped Martin was close enough to the Lonely to be unfazed. And up until Martin’s confession– Peter thought he’d won. Now he had a final chance to take Jon away from Elias.
Peter broke the kiss, his eyes were closed and the look on his face was stern. “I hate the eye.” He said, the fog whirling back around in his mind.
Elias blinked, taking everything in. Peter’s long absences were to make sure he missed Elias, to keep their distance so he didn’t get too close. Peter Lukas cared about Elias. He sighed and gently pressed his lips to his husband’s temple.
“I wish we could’ve seen this through together.” Elias admitted.
“We are now, aren’t we?” Peter gave a soft smile and pulled away. “Now, let’s see who wins your Archivist.”
–
Elias couldn’t see through the fog. He let Jon and Martin leave the Lonely and escape the institute. Jon was properly marked. Elias won. And Peter wouldn’t return.
Elias listened to Peter’s last words in The Lonely on the tape. He smiled fondly as Peter spoke about their relationship to Jon, how they met when he was still James Wright, taking Elias back to a much simpler time. Peter kept their marriage out of the statement, but that was something Jon would learn in time. Elias sighed– Jon was right, Peter was too stubborn. Too hard headed and kept in his own isolation. Meeting his fate seemed unfortunately inevitable.
The Eye bested the Forsaken in the end. Elias wasn’t surprised. He thought of Peter’s death; he resisted Jon’s compulsion rather than tell him about Elias’ plan to use him to enact the Watcher’s Crown. Elias was sure that even if Jon learned his plan from Peter, he could still proceed with the ritual– Jon was completely marked. Perhaps Peter was tired of the Eye’s presence and wanted a sense of control.
Or maybe Peter really didn’t want to die alone.
–