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The first thing Qifrey noticed after waking up free of the silverwood, is that his body feels empty. It’s a strange feeling to become so used to another thing living inside you to then one day wake up and it be gone. The parts of him it used to encompass, fluttering around in his head, pushing against his skin, like an animal desperate to escape its confines, is gone. His skin feels loose, head strangely quiet, like there is hollow space inside him now. It is as if he had been stretched beyond his size, then after allowing the time for his body to adjust to its new shape have it be removed instantly. His body hangs loosely on bones that have become adept at accommodating a weight far greater than just himself. Logically, he knows this to be false, but there is no other way to describe the absence of it. His mind feels similar, as though all these defense mechanisms he spent years subjecting himself to have nowhere to exist now.
The absence however isn’t unappealing though, because with this strange emptiness is now space for all the things he was never given the luxury to hold inside him. Things that will now fill the void.
The first day free from his curse, he spent it walking. He hadn’t been granted the permission to go back to the atelier yet, so he found himself wandering the expansive corridors of the Great Hall.
The operation had happened in the Great Hall, unsurprisingly, Beldaruit had ensured it be done here so he could monitor his dearest apprentice while he recovered.
The Great Hall isn’t much for him to look at, the ocean provides him no comfort, and the long halls fill him with little sentiment. The chatter will always be around, witches with voices never quiet enough, stares that linger for too long. But it is washed with a new light to him. It feels fitting to start and end this journey in the confines of the Great Hall. So he walks, for hours just readjusting to the new light, letting himself find small joys in the halls that once felt like a prison. At the end of the day, his Atelier is waiting patiently for him, and that’s enough.
It was on day four, once the doctors had determined him fit to return and some witches double, triple checked that he was truly rid of the curse, that Qifrey was granted permission to go home. Antsy to leave, Qifrey’s bags were packed in only a moment's time, not that he took much with him, but the sentiment still remains. The girls and Olruggio would be waiting at home for him and for the first time he could embrace them all with no tether. He can laugh now without needing to remind himself that it can never last.
Beldaruit had a windowway built just so Qifrey could return to his Atelier as quickly as possible, on the promise that he would take it down the moment Qifrey left, so as to not warrant unexpected guests to his atelier. But he was thankful, the thought of flying home from Kalhn was nearly unbearable, it’s unlikely his feet would stay together, his body is a bit shaky from anticipation.
It takes less than three steps into his home, body hardly even out of the windowway, for his entire body to be engulfed into four tiny hugs, wrapping around his entire body. The girls squeal with excitement at his return, and Qifrey finds it hard not to return their smiles. His hands grasp at all their bodies best he can.
“Hi girls,” he says, crouching down to get on their level, pulling them in close.
“Master Qifrey, we baked you pie!” Coco says, jumping backward, ushering him to follow. The three others soon let go of Qifrey, allowing him to stand back up and follow dutifully to see what it is they’ve prepared for him.
“Master Olly helped a little bit, but we wanted it to be mostly from us,” Tetia adds, a little hop in her step as she speaks, excitement and pride radiating off of her. Coco is bouncing beside her, equally as eager. Agott and Richeh walk in stride on either side of Qifrey, not quite holding him but close enough that they both bump into his arms every other step or so.
The smell hits him first before he sees it. They didn’t just bake him one pie. In front of him on the table are four separate pies, steaming, freshly baked. The aromas swirl around the room, engulfing them all in the sweet scent of mixed fruits.
“My goodness! What a wonderful display we have here. How are we going to eat this much pie?” He says with a grin, bending over to admire the work in front of him. If he had to wager, he’d say he could accurately guess which girl cooked what pie.
“We couldn’t all settle on one pie so we decided to make all four,” says Agott.
“Yes and that’s why Master Olruggio had to help us out! What do you think, master? Do you like them?” Coco says, fidgeting with her fingers slightly in anticipation.
“Do I? This is so special. Thank you all for caring about my return so much. Shall I cut up these pies for us to enjoy?” The girls eagerly nod and Qifrey goes to find a knife to start slicing. Glancing around the room, a presence is noticeably absent. “Where is Olruggio?”
“He said he had something to do,” Richeh says with a shrug. “Left off right before you showed up.”
“Hm.” It’s not like Qifrey to get upset over Olruggio’s absence, he is afterall, incredibly busy all the time. However, he had anticipated that he would be just as excited to see Qifrey as he was to see him.
The girls were given a very limited explanation regarding Qifrey’s curse, aside from Coco who had the misfortune of bearing his secret until they figured this all out. The only information that was otherwise provided was that he was undergoing a life saving operation to remove a magical curse, the details left unsaid. Olruggio, however, was given a much more in depth explanation. Beldaruit had come to the Atelier while Qifrey was already at the Great Hall getting ready, they had agreed it was the best option to have him tell people beforehand so Qifrey could feign ignorance and avoid the silverwood taking root. According to Beldaruit, Olruggio had several questions that were all answered best that he could provide without Qifrey around to step in. It didn’t take him long to understand why Qifrey kept it from him, quickly becoming more inquisitive about his current state, what it means for Qifrey to undergo the operation and how it’s being conducted. It was a relief to hear that his family back home bore no grudge against him for lying about who he is. However, no one knew the guilt Qifrey carried with him regarding Olruggio’s memories. That was a conversation they were going to have to happen together.
So it stings a bit that Olruggio isn’t around right now. Surely his job isn’t that much more important than him, right?
Nevermind that. He will see him at some point. He’s got his whole life ahead of him to right his wrongs with Olruggio. Right now, he should be focusing on the girls and his time with them.
The pies were sliced and dished out, an extra plate saved for Olruggio for whenever he decides to show up. Qifrey makes sure to sample each pie equally, praising each girl individually for their skills. Each pie crust is decorated with each girl's personality woven into it. Agott, a cherry pie with a precise lattice braided design, Richeh’s blueberry has tens of little leaves individually cut out and placed across the top, Tetia’s, the strawberry rhubarb pie, is covered with a full sheet that has hearts cut out of it and placed along the rim. Lastly, Coco’s mountain apple pie crust is a full sheet with the design cut into it, one that resembles that of a spell.
A beautiful welcome home, a foreign feeling to accept so willingly. It feels wrong to thank them and mean it, to not need to hide behind false smiles but rather embrace it genuinely. It’s something that will take time, he supposes. Undoing all the work he did to build his walls up can’t come crumbling down in one day. He thanks them for their hard work and tries to mean it completely. He tries to not feel guilty for worrying them, for giving them a reason to await his return. He tries hard to remind himself he is worthy of being celebrated and missed.
His smile doesn’t falter despite his inner turmoil, something he’s long since mastered.
The girls are engrossed in their pies, eating away happily, he can hear Coco rambling on about something to Agott but he isn’t focused on it. All he can hear are the familiar footfalls of his dearest friend.
Unceremoniously, Olruggio steps into the kitchen.
“Master Olruggio!” Coco yells out.
“Took you long enough, Master Olly.” Tetia scolds without looking up from her pie. Raising his hands in surrender, he steps fully into the kitchen, greeting Qifrey with a smile.
“Happy to see you’re home, Qifrey,” he says warmly. “The girls spent all day baking you these pies.”
“And I can tell, I can taste their hard work.” He pretends not to see the girls blush under the praise.
Qifrey and Olruggio stare at each other for a moment, something silent unfolding between them. Qifrey is looking into the eyes of the closest, most dear person in his life, who is looking back at him with radiating joy, and all he can feel is guilt. He hadn’t expected to feel the weight so quickly, he hadn’t prepared himself for feeling so terrible in the face of Olruggio. He hadn’t anticipated the immediate dread of facing all that he’s done the last 20 years clings to him like a dirty stain.
Used to stomaching this sort of pain, Qifrey wipes his mind of the thoughts and breaks the eye contact, pushing them back to a tolerable ache until he can confront them head on when the time is right. For now, he will do his best to enjoy the rest of the day.
Most of the afternoon, after several slices of pie were consumed, passed with little irregularity. The girls settled back into their normal routine once the excitement of Qifrey’s return fizzled out. Not that he minds, it’s always been the mundane of their lives together that he held so close to his heart before. After too much insisting, Qifrey prepared dinner for everyone, with a little bit of help from everyone else of course. In some ways he really just wanted things to feel like how they used to. Ever eager to re-experience all that he’s known in a new way. But truthfully, he also can’t find it in himself to fully lean in and accept the love everyone readily gives him and in some convoluted way, cooking dinner is his small way of offsetting the uncomfortable feeling of feeling comfortable.
After dinner he finds himself still washing the dishes with his bare hands, old habits die hard it seems.
“So,” Olruggio starts after some silence. “Once the girls go to bed, I’ve got some stuff planned for you, as a welcome home.”
“Oh?” Qifrey says with an eyebrow raised and a coy smile. “Is that where you were this morning? How kind of you.” Olruggio flounders a bit, shying away from being perceived so easily from Qifrey, before settling into something more bashful, cheeks tinted pink ever so slightly.
It’s hard to put into words the relationship he and Olruggio have spent the last twenty years cultivating. Something torn between friends and everything more than that. For obvious reasons, Qifrey never let the two of them entertain anything more, built walls around what defined their relationship long ago, but no man's walls are impenetrable and the feelings and moments still slipped through the cracks.
That being said, Qifrey spent the four days in the Great Hall coming to terms with the real possibility Olruggio doesn’t want him anymore after all these years, and he might never get over the hurt Qifrey has inflicted on him throughout their eternity together too. He would be okay with it, if Qifrey missed his chance, because he never asked Olruggio to wait. After all, it has been a long time since Olruggio made any forward inclinations regarding his feelings towards Qifrey. He would never hold it against Olruggio for moving on from someone who always held him at arms length. But, hopeful he remains, because he’s allowed to be now.
A few clock marks pass quietly and the girls all turn in for the night. One by one, Qifrey stops by each of their beds to bid them goodnight. He doesn’t linger, whether he’d admit it or not, he’s antsy to get back downstairs to where Olruggio is. Quick sweet words to send them off to bed and then he’s returned to the living area, where Olruggio is waiting, standing, holding two empty glasses and a bottle of Silvernectar wine.
Qifrey lets out an amused breathy laugh, “I should’ve known the night would start with a drink.”
“C’mon this is cause for celebration! Come to my wing, so we don’t have to worry about waking the girls.”
Qifrey follows behind silent, heart beating hard in anticipation and nerves. It’s been a very long time since he let himself get excited over something again.
Qifrey steps into a room littered with small pyreballs, decorating the walls, dancing delicately in the air. No one says anything for a moment, Olruggio watching him as he takes in the sight. Olruggio has noticeably cleaned up his space in preparation for this, and gone as far as to cast several complex spells to create the peaceful environment. He walks slowly toward the centre of the room where Olruggio has moved his couch and table to.
“Are you trying to court me or something, Olly?” He says lighthearted and teasing, but the endearment slips through his words, unable to contain himself.
“I just thought you deserved a real moment to relax. Come on, sit, let's have a drink together.” Olruggio pats beside him on the couch, waiting for Qifrey to follow suit. It takes him a moment to take the first step, his body still processing the sight in front of him and all the work Olrrugio put in just for him. To think that he was disappointed Olruggio wasn’t there for his arrival home, yet he had clearly taken the time to prepare this for him. It feels a bit silly, in hindsight.
“Is this what you were doing when I got home?” He asks as he sits down, gesturing at all the tiny balls of fire flickering around them. Olruggio uncorks the bottle of wine, pouring both of them a generous glass before resting them on the table.
“Mm yes, well this and one other surprise.”
“There’s more?” He says, surprised. “Olly you really shouldn’t have, this is already too much.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Qifrey,” he retorts. “I’ll be right back.” He stands, taking one last sip of his drink.
“Olruggio…” Qifrey sighs sadly as Olruggio goes to move. His motion stills before sitting back down, letting out his own resigned sigh, as if he already anticipated Qifrey’s reluctance. Sitting cross legged on the couch, he faces Qifrey and with a swift movement of his wrist, he gestures for Qifrey to match his position and face him.
“Alright, go ahead. What is it you want to say?” He says as Qifrey shifts to sit looking at Olruggio head on, hiking one of his knees up to wrap his arms around. Opening up has never been his forte, it’s always been best for him to suffer alone.
But this was Olruggio, and if there was anyone he could confide in, would it not be the person most dear to him? Has Olruggio not asked for this, countless times before? It’s about time he reciprocates the kindness Olruggio extends to him.
“Olly,” Qifrey starts, a small frown forming on his lips. “This is too much.”
“You’re allowed to enjoy things, you know?”
“I can’t just pretend like being rid of my curse absolves me of all my sins.”
“What sins, then?” Olruggio asks gently, head tilted. He takes a breath in through the nose, trying to steel his nerves. Trying to find the right words.
How do you go about confessing to the terrible things you’ve done to the very person who saved your life in more ways than one?
“I’ve erased your memories,” he confesses, no words to cushion his crimes. Watching Olruggio’s face shift, eyebrows knit together and a frown matching Qifrey’s starting to form, Qifrey crumbles a little inside. It feels even worse on his tongue, the weight of it settling heavier into his chest.
“Huh?” He says, eyes narrowing.
“Oru, I’ve erased your memory hundreds of times. The very first time was when we went to the Tower of Tomes.” He takes a shaky breath in. “That was when I found out about it, and - and when I told you, it activated the curse. And the only way to save my own memories and my life was to take your memories. You went into the tower and found the spell. You cast the spell on yourself to forget my secret, and I’ve had to cast it every time since.” He reaches over to find his pointed cap resting on the ground. Slowly unbuttoning the clasp, Qifrey reveals the spell hidden under the flap. Olruggio’s eyes widen at the sight of the terrible black inky spell that rests atop his cap.
He continues, voice wavering, “You have no idea how sorry I am, Olruggio. How much this haunts me. You just kept finding out. I am no match for you, you know me too well.” He lets out a breathy laugh devoid of any real joy. “I can understand if you don’t want to stay here anymore.” A silence fills the room. He can’t stand to look at Olruggio’s face. Qifrey hasn’t cried in a long, long time. His body seems as though it’s lost the ability to self soothe from crying, so it wouldn’t be right to say he’s tearing up at Olruggio’s silence, but his eye burns all the same. Perhaps it’s just shame. Unable to handle the silence, he fills the void with anxious rambling, eyes glued to his own hands, watching his fingers fidget and pick at his skin.
“Look, I- you- we- I don’t know what I’m trying to say. Olly, you are my best friend. You mean more to me than I think you can ever know. And trying to live with what I’ve done-”
“Qifrey.” His voice cuts through his rambling, steady and firm. “Look at me,” he adds, softer. Qifrey forces his eyes upward, only to meet the gentlest gaze resting upon him. His brows are still knit together, but the tension isn’t there, he doesn’t look angry at all. He feels pathetic.
“I don’t care. Do you think that after I learnt what has happened to you that I would abandon you? Qifrey I’m sorry that you had to go through all of that. This isn’t on your head alone. You were trying to survive, simple as that. Come on, don’t look at me like that, you didn’t deserve what they put you through.”
“I don’t deserve you,” he whispers out, shaky.
“You’ve never been able to know what you deserve.”
“Are you not upset with me?” He feels undeserving of Olruggio's compassion. He has always been far too kind for his own good, forgivness is always on the tip of his tongue.
“I’m upset at the fact that you’ve had to do all of this by yourself. If I told you to do it all those years ago, how can I be mad now?” Olruggio slides closer to Qifrey, his feet pressing against his legs as he fills Qifrey’s space. He reaches out tentatively and grabs Qifrey’s anxious hands, forcing their movements to stop. “Let me show you what you deserve. Place your trust in me.” The physical touch feels foreign, something he hadn’t really granted them before. It’s comforting in all the ways he knew it would be. Olruggio’s steady hands hold his shaky ones in place, grounding him. To think he’s been deprived of the simplicity of Olruggio’s touch for so long.
Olruggio wants Qifrey to put his trust in him? Doesn’t he know that he’s the only thing he’s trusted? Trusting Olruggio was never a problem, it is trusting the universe to not violently take away anything good in his life that is.
“I’ve always trusted you, Olly.” Perhaps it is time for him to put his hands back into the unknown and trust that it will give him what he’s always wanted. Maybe this time it won’t be taken from him. He gives him a weak smile, a feeble attempt to turn the night back around. “Alright, pray tell, what do I deserve, then?”
Olruggio smiles warmly, relief washing over his face.
“Alright, I’ve got something to give to you.” Finishing his drink, Olruggio stands and disappears up to the top of his room. He hasn’t gone far, just behind the couch to a table pressed against the wall. Slowly, with a quiet build up, a gentle stringed instrument fills his ears, followed by the mellow voice of a woman.
“Is this…? How did you find this? You really are pulling out all the stops, Olly.” Qifrey calls from the couch, closing his eye to take in the music.
This has been his favourite song since he was young. The very first time he had heard it was one of the earliest adventures he and Olruggio had embarked on during their time at the Great Hall. They had just been granted permission to leave without supervision and the pair spent the entire day wandering a local town, exploring shops and eating far too much food. It was there he heard a woman singing it in the streets, plucking a roundlute melodically. It had stopped him in his tracks, captivating him. He had never heard live music like this before, the Great Halls never offered much when it came to the sounds of music.
Finding a song that has been recorded into a sound spell is rare, it’s a time consuming process that witches and especially non-witches do not have readily available to them yet. Olruggio has been on the hunt for recorded music over the last few years, slowly developing a small collection of music for the Atelier. Qifrey hadn’t realized part of his collection contained this song.
“Took me forever to find, you have no idea.”
“When did you find this? You never told me you had this.”
“This morning, actually. That’s why I had to leave. Got a letter from a patron saying they heard of someone selling recorded songs so I took a leap of faith and it paid off, thankfully.” He smiles proudly as he comes back around and settles back into the couch.
“You’re spoiling me,” Qifrey muses.
They sit in a comfortable silence, taking in the song together much like they had all those years ago. Silence like this is something that they always seem to fall easily into. It’s easy for him to get lost inside his mind, ruminating on all that he’s done, but when it’s just him and Olruggio, he has a way of quieting the voices in his head without even trying. He lets the music and Olruggio’s presence guide him, letting his body start to truly settle into the evening.
He is pulled out of his state at the sudden movement of Olruggio. Readjusting himself on the couch, resting his back against the arm rest, stretching his legs out across the couch, where they find their home across Qifrey’s lap. Settling into it, eyes closed, Olruggio starts humming quietly to the tune of the music. Qifrey’s gaze settles on the sight beside him. Beautiful, he thinks. He looks at peace, completely relaxed. Qifrey takes a moment to wonder if one day he’ll be able to find himself that relaxed? His body still hasn’t quite forgotten its survival mechanisms. This might be the most content he’s been in a long time, but he is not relaxed. Not truly, at least. But he’s trying to let his muscles let go of their tension, to be engulfed in the environment Olruggio has spent all day cultivating for him. It’s harder than he thought it would be.
Qifrey sips at his wine, watching Olruggio with a quiet desire. The alcohol dulling his senses, making his aversion to any form of intimacy melt around the edges. He lets his mind wander. What would it be like to kiss Olruggio? To hold him into the night? Is Olruggio wondering the same thing? What would it be like to love Olruggio? Is he even capable of love anymore? Is love the right word?
Anxiety starts to well up inside of him, the wine in his mouth suddenly turning sour. Love, what is that to Qifrey? Everyone around him loves freely, as though they are not burdened by their desires like he has been. Love has been something he has always approached with rigid caution, sure to never let himself falter. Now he has been given a gift, to be able to experience the world like everyone else, but does the body remember how to love? Has it ever been given the chance to love without consequence? Truly and deeply love something - someone?
“Qifrey you’re thinking real loud, right now. What’s going on up in there?” Perhaps the first step to the question is embracing discomfort.
“Olruggio,” he says quietly, turning his head to look over at the man laying across the couch. One of his eyes is peering open, observing Qifrey’s body language. His gaze softens when he meets Qifrey’s, slowly opening both eyes to take him in fully. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
Qifrey can’t look at him when he asks this.
“Have you ever kissed someone?” The question feels unnatural, a little bit silly too, but he’s never asked that before. Has Olruggio been with someone before? He has plenty of fans, people who throw themselves at him, would do anything with him if he let them. Surely he must’ve, but the thought turns his stomach over. Is he allowed to feel that way?
“Hmm, back when we were teenagers, yes,” he says after some thought. “Gave it up pretty soon after though, no one really caught my eye.” Then he adds, with a dry laugh, “beside the only person I really cared for in that regard seemed intent on drawing the line. So not in a long time, I guess. Why do you ask?”
The drink must be getting to him, Olruggio must’ve picked up a bottle that was stronger than normal, because nothing else could explain how badly the thought of kissing Olruggio is infecting his mind right now. If this backfires in any way, he can blame it on the alcohol.
“Would you kiss me, if I asked?”
The question hangs suspended in the air between them. The silence drags for a moment too long and he risks a glance at Olruggio who is sitting there, staring eyes wide with shock. Embarrassment floods Qifrey, heat rising to his cheeks.
“You don’t have to!” He sputters out, backtracking. “It’s just that I - well I’ve never - I was just thinking about the things I wasn’t able to have before… It’s just that I’ve never gotten to experience that before. And there… isn’t anyone else I’d want to give me that.” He fiddles with his fingers and the hem of his pants, anxious for Olruggio to say something. Anything. Olruggio sits up, bracing himself with his hands behind his back. Tilting his head, he observes Qifrey, who for the life of him, can’t keep his hands still.
“I-” Olruggio starts, then stops, seeming unable to find his words. “Is that something you’d want?” Is what he seems to settle on.
Unsure how to take that response, Qifrey replies meekly, “Yes, I think so. Would you want to?” He feels a bit like a child at this moment, as if this were the early days of being an apprentice, dancing around the idea of a crush, unable to communicate your words properly. That seems fitting, he supposes, that the man who couldn’t talk about his feelings all his life would extend to his romantic life too. But Olruggio would know that right? He would understand what he’s trying to say, surely.
“Yeah, Qifrey, I would,” he says with a breathless smile.
“Okay,” he says on an exhale, laughing lightly at the awkwardness he feels.
Olruggio sits up fully now, positioning himself close to Qifrey, facing him like he was earlier.
“I don’t really-” he starts, but Olruggio cuts him off, raising his hand to silence him. He leans forward, inching closer and closer into Qifrey’s space. For how badly he’s wanted this all his life, he hadn’t imagined feeling so inept at it.
“Just don’t think about it. There’s no need, it’ll come to you.”
“When did you become so confident?” He asks cheekily, trying to mask his nerves. Olruggio just grins in return, something mixed between cocky and nervous too. At least they share that in common.
With what feels like a snail's pace, Olruggio closes the gap between them and places one soft kiss on Qifrey’s lips. It happens fast, and then it’s over. Qifrey almost says something, but then comes another, and another. All extremely delicate, like Qifrey is something fragile. Or something to be worshipped. The way Olruggio places the kisses, as though Qifrey’s lips are the only thing between him and eternal bliss. He can feel the gentle restraint, the want that comes through the sweetness, and Qifrey is grateful. Grateful that Olruggio always knows just what he needs, never too much, never too little.
Olruggio’s hand reaches up and cups Qifrey’s face, running a thumb back and forth across his cheek, easing him into it all. Qifrey finds his hands feeling suddenly empty, desperate to hold something as well. He finds the nape of Olruggio’s neck with one hand and the other finds his waist. Olruggio takes this moment to deepen the kiss, pressing a little firmer, bringing in a bit more heat to what were once soft kisses. It’s not nearly as confusing as Qifrey had thought. He had thought it would take time to understand how to progress, that it would feel strange, like a learning curve he had to work to get over. Instead it all just feels normal. Natural. Like he was meant to be doing this, as if he’s always been doing this. Does it feel like that with everyone or just when he’s with Olruggio? He suspects the latter. Hopes for the latter. He wishes to never find the answer out, there is no one else he could think of doing this with.
Olruggio slides his tongue across Qifrey’s lip, an invitation, giving Qifrey the reins. He happily obliges, opening his mouth, allowing the kiss to take it one step further. The pace is slow, cautious but he finds neither he nor Olruggio seem to mind. Both relishing in the act, no matter the pace.
But this has awoken something in Qifrey, he can feel it. Something deep within him that he has suppressed for a long, long time. He’s never felt this carnal feeling inside of him before, and in some ways, it feels something akin to the silverwood clawing at his skin. Something inside of him has woken up and needs to be fed, immediately.
His hand grips the back of Olruggio’s neck a little tighter, he pulls Olruggio closer with the hand on his waist, desperate to close the distance between each other. Olruggio, who was leaning over his crossed legs at first, shifts to be on his knees, laying Qifrey back slightly. Then, slowly lays him down completely on the couch, Qifrey’s hand detaches from his neck, both hands now resting on his waist, travelling up his sides, wrapping around to his back, feeling him out. Both of Olruggio’s hands find Qifrey’s jaw, holding his face tightly with passion.
They break for a moment, catching their breath, chests heaving against one another. Qifrey looks up at Olruggio and lets out a breathy laugh. Olruggio returns the look, then traces his eyes across Qifrey’s face, settling down on the saliva coated lips, red from their passion.
“I might’ve gotten a bit carried away,” he says lightheartedly.
“I let you,” Qifrey responds earnestly. “I wouldn’t stop you if you kept going, also.”
He runs his hands up Olruggio’s back, kneading his hands into the muscles as he watches Olruggio’s face wash over from Qifrey’s words. Mere ticks on a clock pass before Olruggio is kissing Qifrey again, with a newfound passion and Qifrey reciprocates with equal ferocity. Qifrey can feel himself growing hard under the weight of Olruggio.
Olruggio’s hands tug at Qifrey’s leather straps around his neck, “give me access to this,” he murmurs into Qifrey’s mouth. His hands fly up to his neck in record time, untying his shirt, leaving his neck exposed for the taking.
It takes even less time for Olruggio to leave Qifrey’s lips and reattach them onto his neck. Kissing the bare skin with open wet kisses. Qifrey is panting, eye closed, head tilted back, allowing Olruggio as much access as possible, who greedily takes it all.
“This damn turtleneck,” he mutters through kisses, "I've always wanted to do this.” He sucks down on his neck, just above his collarbone. Qifrey squirms under him and lets a quiet whimper slip past his lips. He feels Olruggio smile against his skin before moving to another spot on his neck, repeating the same process.
Qifrey’s neck has always been a bit more sensitive than the rest of his body and Olruggio’s lips are sucking down on all the sweet spots. It feels so good. He squirms, pressing his hips upward into Olruggio, who grinds back down onto him. His hands run along his back desperately.
“Olly,” he whispers out with a small smile, “this is killing me.”
Eventually, after he had sufficiently ravaged Qifrey’s neck, he lets up and inspects the body he’s started to unravel beneath him. Qifrey’s cheeks are tinted pink, his chest still rising and falling quickly, and his eye, half lidded already, looking at Olruggio through his lashes.
“You’re so beautiful,” he says earnestly. The pink on his cheeks deepen and breaks eye contact, looking away. “What? You don’t think so? Qifrey, you should see yourself right now.” He places sweet kisses along his jaw and back up to his lips.
“Can I take this off?” He asks, tugging slightly at his shirt. Qifrey nods eagerly and starts hastily undoing the straps around the legs. “This seems needlessly complex, Qifrey.”
“Just an added annoyance in my life,” Qifrey remarks, offhanded as he fiddles with the straps. Olruggio’s hands still and Qifery feels his gaze shift. “What?” He asks, confused, looking up at Olruggio who is now watching Qifrey with a tinge of sadness in his eyes.
“I’m sorry you suffered so much.” His hands still, eyes locked on the bottom half of his shirt. It lasts only a moment, before Qifrey resumes pulling the straps away and starts tugging on his shirt trying to slide it off.
“You needn’t apologize, Olly. I’ve come to terms with it.” Olruggio’s hands find Qifrey’s, halting his movements.
“Let me take it off for you,” he says gently, pulling Qifrey’s hands aside. “Let me take care of you, okay?”
“I can do this my-”
“I told you I wanted to give you a night where you can truly relax, let me give you this.”
Qifrey doesn’t react right away. Give him this? Let him relax? Surely he isn’t worthy of this kind of treatment, least of all from Olruggio. His body tenses, unable to abandon his own doubt, but Olruggio is looking at him like he hung the moon, like he is ground to be worshipped on, and something in him loosens. Why go through the entire operation, spend his whole life trying to find a solution to his problem, if once he was finally absolved of it he still rejects the kindness given to him. That would render the whole thing obsolete, that would let them win in the end. They don’t get to take this away from him any longer. This is his, now. And if Olruggio is here with him, what could go wrong?
He is safe. He will always be safe within the arms of Olruggio.
He lets his muscles relax and slowly, Qifrey’s hands drop, letting Olruggio slide his shirt off for him. They move in a comfortable silence as Olruggio gently slides the shirt over his head, discarding onto the floor. He places gentle kisses along his stomach, kissing almost every square inch of exposed skin. He trails kisses up his chest, pausing briefly to lick his nipples, sucking on them lightly to elicit a small noise from Qifrey, then continues upward again until he finds Qifrey’s lips. His hands are tangled into Olruggio’s hair, holding him tightly as they kiss slowly. He grinds into Olruggio’s thigh that is wedged between his legs, creating much needed friction.
Olruggio slides himself backward, kissing his body downward this time, dragging his hands along his body as he moves. Worshiping his body. He can feel it in the way he touches him, in the looks he gives when he casts his eyes upward. Olruggio’s lips ghost the hem of his pants, leaving wet, torturously slow kisses along the line, causing Qifrey’s body to jerk and twitch from the sensation. He hooks two fingers into the band and tugs the pants downward, leaving Qifrey completely exposed. The warm air hits his exposed cock for only a moment before Olruggio’s hand grazes it, admiring it, then his tongue, running a long stripe up the base. Qifrey lets out a low moan.
Olruggio slides his lips over his head, sucking gently before bobbing his head down, taking in Qifrey’s length with ease. His head lolls back, eye closing as he lets out another moan.
“Olly,” he whispers out. Olruggio continues to bob his head, sucking and stroking Qifrey’s length, twisting and turning. His eyes are glued to Olruggio, watching the way he moves, taking him in, working him. Every so often, Olruggio will glance up and Qifrey fights every urge to cum right then and there. It doesn’t take much longer though, the feeling far too great for him to have ever stood a chance. Hands deep in Olruggio’s hair, gripping tightly, he bucks his hips as Olruggio works passionately on his head, licking the sensitive spot until Qifrey can feel his release hitting the back of Olruggio’s throat. He gives him a couple more slow, gentle licks on his sensitive head before coming back up to give Qifrey a very wet kiss. He readily accepts it, feeling utterly deprived of it, kissing back with passion.
Qifrey makes quick work of undressing Olruggio, stripping him down bare with him.
“Let me take you to my bed,” Olruggio says between kisses. “It’s less cramped there.” Part of him wanted to refuse, the small couch forces them closer and he can’t stand the thought of having distance between them again, but logic overrides his brain and he follows dutifully up to Olruggio’s bed. Olruggio guides him, a hand keeping them tethered until Qifrey is sliding himself up the bed until his back is pressed against the cool wall. Olruggio follows, crawling toward him slowly, kissing up his legs, over his semi-hard cock, and all the way back up to his lips where they meet with slow movements.
Qifrey’s head is swirling, still coming down from his high. Olruggio’s touch is gentle, but Qifrey is craving more, something far more lustful.
“Olly,” he murmurs between kisses, “I need you inside me,” another kiss, “please.”
“Anything you want.” Olruggio’s hand slides down Qifrey’s body, ghosting past his cock before cupping his ass, kneading the soft skin eliciting a quiet moan from Qifrey. With his other hand, he reaches over to his bedside table and retrieves a small bottle of oil, popping it open with ease. After a moment, Olruggio runs a finger along Qifrey’s hole, pressing lightly, flinching at the new sensation. “Tell me if you need me to stop, okay? This should only be making you feel good.” Qifrey nods impatiently, urging him to continue. His finger slips inside Qifrey, hitching his breath he takes in the feeling. Olruggio pumps his finger in and out slowly, allowing Qifrey time to adjust. As he starts relaxing into it, Olruggio slips a second finger, working him open. He pumps in and out, hooking his fingers. He lets out a string of whimpers, arching his back into Olruggio, desperate for more.
“How’s that feel?” Olruggio whispers in his ear before nibbling gently on his lobe.
“S’good,” he says, eye fluttering shut.
By the time Qifrey is sufficiently worked open and ready, he is a whimpering, squirming mess beneath Olruggio. Cheeks tinted pink, eye looking at him through the haze as Olruggio gets himself ready. He pushes Qifrey’s legs wide, letting Qifrey wrap them around his waist, slotting himself between him before lining his cock up. He places one kiss on Qifrey’s lips and then pushes himself in. Immediately, Qifrey breaks the kiss, mouth hanging agape, and head tilting back, gasping at the feeling. Olruggio kisses the side of his mouth, relishing in the noises that slip out of Qifrey’s mouth.
He rests there, inside Qifrey for a moment, allowing both of them the chance to become familiar with the sensation. Olruggio pulls his head back, looking down at Qifrey below him.
“You feel so good, Qifrey,” Olruggio marvels. Desperate for more, Qifrey tightens his grip around his waist, trying to signal to Olruggio to start moving, unable to find it in him to form words.
Taking the hint, Olruggio pulls back and starts pumping himself in and out. He throws his head back, letting out a low groan.
Qifrey’s head is swirling, overcome with pleasure he can hardly keep his eye open to stare at Olruggio, who is coming apart above him. It’s a sight he never imagined getting to see, a feeling never believing he’d be able to achieve. His entire existence is utterly entangled with Olruggio, it’s all he can see, hear, feel, just Olruggio, Olruggio, Olruggio. He is letting out an incoherent string of words, purring out Olruggio’s name, whispering profanities as Olruggio continues to thrust in and out of him. His words devolving into a mumbling mess.
“You’re beautiful, Qifrey. So, so beautiful,” Olruggio praises over and over. Spewing words of affirmation, sweet nothings, rambling on about how good he feels, how he was made to take him, how he is all his. His.
That’s a nice idea.
It all feels so good. Better than he ever could’ve imagined. He hadn’t realized freedom felt like this. His legs are hiked up as high as they’ll go, giving Olruggio better access, thrusting in deeper than before. The sound of his hips slapping against Qifrey echoes across the room.
Suddenly-
“Hey, Qifrey, are you okay?” Olruggio says, stopping his movements to cup his face, eyes boring into his with concern. “What’s wrong?”
Qifrey hadn’t realized he started crying. It wasn’t until Olruggio’s panic and him wiping at his eye gently that he realized he was.
“I just- I didn’t know-” he starts, overwhelmed, touching his face. “I didn’t know it would feel this good.” he wipes his eye. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to scare you. It’s just- a lot.”
“Would you like me to stop?”
“No, no, not at all. Olly, you feel incredible. I’m okay, I promise.” He lifts up and places a kiss on Olruggio’s sternum, kissing his chest, before pulling him downward to give him access to his neck. Olruggio’s eyes flutter shut as Qifrey works slowly on his neck. He kisses up his jaw and to his lips. They kiss patiently as Olruggio starts to move again, slowly. They stay like that for a while, Olruggio moving with slow passion, Qifrey’s hands lost in his hair, kissing as though they have all the time in the world, engrossed with each other's presence.
Being here with Olruggio, lost to the outside world, it’s just the two of them, bodies joined, kissing sloppy and sweet, is all Qifrey could ever need in life.
And for the first time ever, Qifrey feels so at home, and it feels so right. He wants this all the time, not just the sex, but the calmness, the comfort, the closeness, the sweetness. This is all he’s ever wanted, and now that he’s got it, nothing will get in the way of losing it.
Maybe he is still capable of love. They haven’t taken everything from him.
“You’re perfect. So, so perfect,” Olruggio whispers, leaving open, wet kisses all over him. He lets out a small moan in acknowledgement. “I’m gonna come soon.” Qifrey nods into the crook of his neck, placing sloppy, mindless kisses as Olruggio picks up the pace slightly, chasing his high. His hand wraps around Qifrey’s cock, stroking it as he moves, pulling Qifrey closer and closer to his second release of the night.
“Feel- mm - this feels s’good, Olly.”
Qifrey quickly approaches his second round, chasing it just as Olruggio lets out a low moan, dropping his head into Qifrey’s neck. He can feel Olruggio’s cock pulsating inside him, letting his cum spill into him. Qifrey kisses into his hair until he too is cumming.
They lay there for a moment, breathing heavily into each other, letting their chests rest skin-to-skin. After some time, Olruggio stands, sliding on his underwear before disappearing down to his main level. He returns with two cups of tea and a damp towel.
He wipes down Qifrey, ensuring he is completely cleaned off before helping him slide his underwear back on as well. Then, settling into the bed, Olruggio pulls Qifrey onto his chest, letting his head rest on the soft part of his torso.
“You alright?” Olruggio asks, looking down at the man below him.
“More than alright,” he says with a satisfied sigh. He runs his finger along Olruggio’s chest, mindlessly drawing figures and shapes. He looks up to meet Olruggio’s eyes and smiles. “Thank you for all of this tonight.” Olruggio kisses the top of his forehead and runs his hand along his back soothingly. Then, gently, with his other free hand he sweeps the hair out of Qifrey’s face, revealing the scar over his missing eye.
“Does it hurt?” He asks quietly, ghosting a finger over the stitches.
“Not really,” he answers honestly. “My body feels weird though. Like there’s a part of me that’s absent. But it’s a good kind of absence. It’s just going to take some time.”
They lay in silence together, pressed up against one another, engrossed in their shared presence. A sickly feeling washes over Qifrey for a moment, anxiety filling his veins, turning them to stone.
“Will you still be here tomorrow? This isn’t fleeting, right?” He asks, worry evident in his voice.
He isn’t fixed. Removing the silverwood didn’t cure him of all his problems. He has a myriad of sins he must atone for one day, apologies to make, coping mechanisms to recover from. Things he will need to learn to let go of, but progress is made one step at a time.
“Of course it isn’t, Qifrey. We can figure this all out together this time. I’m by your side, always.”
Drowsiness settles into his bones, and his eye starts to droop, fluttering shut. The last thing he registers before falling asleep is the feeling of Olruggio’s hand running along his back, and his lips pressing into his temple. His body pulls him into his first ever truly restful sleep.
It’s easy to believe he can become the person he was always meant to be if this is how his new life starts.