Archive of Our Own

The atelier is quiet. The girls are out today, set to spend the night in the Great Hall. They’ve been there since morning getting their check-ups done, and then going on a little field trip orchestrated by Beldaruit and although Qifrey isn’t entirely sure what his old master has planned for his apprentices but he is thankful for the quiet evening. Not that he doesn’t love and appreciate every moment with them. It’s just a quiet evening in is hard to come by these days and recently, he’s been given the grace to enjoy the simple things in life. And an evening to himself is one he has yet to properly experience.
Well, he won’t be alone for the entire night actually. With the girls not returning until the morning, Qifrey is all by himself but Olruggio is expected to return home from his work trip sometime this evening.

Which is all perfect considering today marks a very important day for them. Ten years ago today, he and Olruggio moved into this atelier together.
Olruggio has been gone for the last couple of days, working in some small village helping the folks there prepare for winter. With the cold weather steadily approaching, he’s been particularly busy this month, either locked away in his room working or out on business trips aiding others. He’s become somewhat elusive to the girls and born from this absence is a new game, Olly Sightings as they so aptly named it. Simply put, as the name suggests, the girls all place bets on when the next time Olruggio decides to show his face. The most accurate guess wins some sort of prize, be it that evening's dinner selection, an I-owe-you from the other girls, pretty much whatever they decide on. Though more often than not it is a favour to be cashed in that the girls usually pick.

As of late, Qifrey has started to chime in, placing his own bets and participating when he can. He loves to play a game, after all and the girls love it, often giddy every time Qifrey decides to join in. He’s only won once, though, and then the girls all claimed he was cheating because he ‘knows Master Olly better than they do!’. So ever since he’s adjusted his bets aloud to be just slightly off, still be close but never the closest. He mostly likes to participate, and it’s far more enjoyable to watch the girls get it right, anyways.
No one is around to play the game with him tonight though, but he writes his answer down on a piece of paper nonetheless. Just to see if he’s still got it. Maybe if he gets close enough he’ll reward himself with something. Like a new gardening handbook or some expensive meat for a future dinner.
In the meantime, he busies himself in the atelier, getting caught up on some housework that has slipped through the cracks. Between teaching the girls, preparing their meals, and all the prep work that goes into being a teacher, the housework has taken its place on the backburner, so to speak.
Perhaps it’s time the girls were given more chores around the atelier, he thinks. That doesn’t seem like a bad idea, they can use magic even, stimulating their minds while maintaining a clean, happy home. Yes, a good idea indeed.

Satisfied with his newfound solution, Qifrey draws up a spell that sweeps the dirt across the floor into a tidy pile. While that works its way around the living space, Qifrey gathers up all the spare blankets and fabrics lying around for washing. After dropping them into the washing barrel he moves on to the next task, his most dreaded one.

Dishes.

The seals on his floating dishes - designed for effortlessly tidying up a kitchen for him- had worn off the other day and he simply hadn’t had the time to replace them, leaving him to wash them all by hand in the meantime. He had spent all night preparing lunches for the girls to have today while they were away and by the time he had finished exhaustion ran deep in his bones, so tidying the kitchen was put off for future Qifrey to deal with. Only for said future Qifrey to come face-to-face with the daunting sight of unwashed dishes. He mildly curses past him for being so lazy.

With a resigned sigh he makes his way over to the kitchen, dusting off his hands as he moves, mentally preparing for the task. The dishes sit unceremoniously in the sink, waiting patiently for Qifrey’s attention. He pushes his sleeves up as much as he can in a skin tight shirt, and fills the sink quickly with warm soapy water.

There is something to be said about doing some chores without magic, though. Magic is a wonderful thing, a great tool to make daily living easier, but every so often it’s nice to go back to the basics and do some of the mundane tasks by hand. It gives him a moment to breathe, focus on the singular task at hand, let his mind rest a bit.

Did it have to be washing dishes though?

Ignoring the unpleasant sensation of the water on his skin, and his damp sleeves (unavoidable unless he wanted to wash the dishes topless, really), he scrubs each dish methodically. The water tickles his skin as he works, scrubbing and racking each dish one by one until the pile in the sink shrinks into nothing.

With a triumphant smile, Qifrey rests his hands on his hips, admiring the hard work he put in being reflected back to him. A spotless kitchen, paired with a tidied and freshly cleaned living space. He breathes out a sigh of relief, letting his body and mind relax. It’s remarkable how just being in a clean space allows the body to settle.

Surely it hadn’t taken him that long either. He casts a glance over at the clock and his eye widens in surprise. Where had the day gone? There’s no way cleaning took the entire afternoon, did it?

This is why he doesn’t do his chores by hand, simply no time for that. He makes note to fix the seals on his floating dishes immediately after dinner. There’s no way once the girls and Olruggio return he will have time to add the seals, the atelier is far too busy with six bodies living in it.

He isn’t expecting Olruggio to return for another few clock marks so he needn’t prepare a large dinner, just a serving for one. He won’t overdo it when it’s just for himself, a simple soup will suffice. And perhaps a small salad, he does have some unused mountain apples that would make for an excellent addition to a salad.

Ah but- well, he anticipates celebrating tonight with Olruggio, so long as he does come home. He should make something to share with him in the evening. There are some cured meats and cheese left over from the picnic the girls had a few days ago, a small platter with a bottle of wine would go over nicely tonight.

He’s got a lot of work ahead of himself.

He’s never minded though - being busy. There was once a time where keeping his mind occupied was the only thing keeping him going. Busy body, busy mind. These days he finds it to be rather therapeutic. There is something relaxing about getting lost in the process of something. Now that the finer things in life are able to be appreciated by him, the world all seems to be more pleasant.

His hands are working tirelessly in the kitchen, assembling his dinner and prepping for the evening snack with Olruggio, humming along to a tune he had heard in town earlier today. His mind drifts to the evening ahead of him.

He and Olruggio have never been ones to make a big deal out of specific dates, Qifrey doesn’t even acknowledge his own birthday after all, but something about tonight feels like it deserves to be celebrated. Maybe it’s because he finally has the ability to celebrate something properly.

Ever since he has had the freedom to pursue the life he desires, he and Olruggio have been stuck in this liminal space between friendship and something more. Perhaps tonight is the night Qifrey finally finds the strength to close that gap for them. Olruggio has always been understanding, patient, and careful to never overstep any boundaries Qifrey had set in the past. The problem is now, Qifrey wants him to overstep. Recently Qifrey has found himself alone in his room late at night letting his mind run wild of all the ways he’s dreamt of being with Olruggio, in ways he had never been afforded the privilege to even humour before. In ways far more impure than he would admit aloud. The way his hands would feel on him, how he might taste, what noises he makes, the feeling of his lips wrapped around-

“You look quite preoccupied.”

“Oh, Olly!” Qifrey startles, hand over his heart. “You scared me.” Olruggio lets out a laugh, throwing his head back slightly. A scowl forms on Qifrey’s face, hand slowly leaving his chest to rest on his hip. Heat floods his face. Olruggio can’t read minds, he knows this but it’s hard to look him in the eyes right now, the filthy image of Olruggio being quickly forced out of his mind.

“It’s not that funny, Olruggio,” he says, trying to sound annoyed but it finds it lost in translation.

“You startle so easily.” He walks over towards the kitchen counter, resting his back against it, supported by his hands. He tilts his head. “So, what had you so lost in thought?”

“Oh! Nothing really, just focused on the food, that’s all,” he sputters, nervously fidgeting with his fingers, gaze cast downward. He can feel the way the heat pools on his cheeks, face likely beet-red so he spins himself back around, pretending to busy himself with the food. Olruggio watches him for a moment with a small grin before pushing himself off the counter, walking off somewhere behind Qifrey.

He continues slicing some cured meats, laying them precariously onto a wooden board. He’s home much earlier than he had anticipated. Is he hungry? He could probably double the soup recipe, he’s early in the process still.

“Huh, what’s this?” Olruggio asks suddenly. Qifrey spins around to try and see what it is Olruggio found only to find him holding a small piece of paper with words scribbled onto it. “‘Olly home - just after the eighth clock mark. Probably tired.’” He reads out with a puzzled look. “What is this?”
If Qifrey’s face wasn’t red and hot before, it certainly is now.

“Oh- uh- ah, well you see-” he runs a hand across his face. How embarrassing. “Well the girls and I play this game, and well we try and guess when we will see you next. The closest guess usually wins something. I- uh, thought it’d be fun to try and play just myself. I usually try to let the girls win.” A small smile breaks out on Olruggio’s face, slow as he processes the information, then blooms into something wide.

He lets out a single laugh, looking down at the paper. “Is that so? Well you didn’t quite get this right, now did you? What is the usual prize?” Qifrey plays with the hem of his sleeve.

“Dinner selection or usually the girls issue out IOU’s to the winner.”

“Well-” he says, then leans to the left to look past Qifrey and at the food he was in the middle of preparing. “Dinner has already been decided it seems. Technically, you did get the closest guess, since no one else is playin’. Kind of cheatin’, if I do say so myself, but I’ll let it slide this time.”

“What are you saying?” He asks with a head tilt and furrowed brows.

“I’m saying I owe you something. That’s the rules, right?”

“Oh, no, please, it was just a silly game for myself to play. That’s quite alright, Olly.”

“C’mon, Qifrey let me join in on the fun for once! I’m giving you a blank slate IOU, just accept it.” Qifrey huffs, rolling his eye slightly to feign annoyance.

“Alright, fine. Now either come help me cook or stay out of the kitchen, please.” Olruggio raises his hands in a truce, moving just outside of the kitchen boundary. He pulls out a chair from the table nearby and sits down, crossing a leg over the other and rests his head into his hand.

And just watches.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Qifrey says with a small scowl.

“You said help or get out, and I’m just so tired. Thought I’d watch the Qifrey Cooking Show,” he says with a playful smile, tilting his head in his hands.

“You can be so frustrating sometimes,” he chimes back, turning away to continue slicing some of the cured meats. “You’re really just going to sit there while I do all the work, hm?”

“I’ve had a long day, Qifrey, grant me the time to relax. I’m watching a very enjoyable show right now.” A blush creeps up onto his cheeks and he’s thankful that his back is to Olruggio.

They do this, sometimes- flirt. It’s been increasingly more common these days, now that Qifrey can indulge a bit more freely. He can never seem to find it in himself to remain impassive, Olruggio’s words always seem to have a visible effect on him. Inexperience, he supposes.

By the time he’s finished preparing dinner (portion size doubling with Olruggio’s unexpected early arrival) and set the meat and cheese aside for the evening, the sun has since set, and Olruggio remains glued to his seat. He had occasionally provided commentary, a few jokes, but otherwise sat silently and watched Qifrey work away in the kitchen. A spectator observing him.

They eat mostly in silence, save for the occasional praise from Olruggio on the taste of the food. Qifrey beams back at him, a warm smile and a sheepish face, accepting the compliment with tinted cheeks.

The evening settles into something easy, with the two of them relaxing on the couch in front of a fire, it’s too early to crack open the wine and serve the meat platter, so Qifrey busies himself in a book. Olruggio lounges beside him, legs spread across the entire couch, resting them across Qifrey’s lap.

He pretends to ignore the way his heart skips a beat and his breath hitches just slightly anytime Olruggio shifts his body.

Moments like this with Olruggio have always been easy. After twenty years of knowing a person and ten of them living together, comfortable silence comes to them like second nature. Despite his desire to progress their relationship, there are moments that hold him back. They’ve lived and grown together for so long under the pretense of being best friends, never anything more, and Olruggio has gracefully accepted the terms presented to him. They’ve settled into something quite beautiful, this existence is wonderful, and he doesn’t need there to be anything more. He’d be putting his heart on the line and his entire life as he knows it for something he can’t guarantee Olruggio even wants. When he stops to think about the life he’s built with him, he can find himself to be content in it.

And yet he wants more. In the mornings when he wakes, his bed feels empty, as though it’s missing someone who has never even spent the night there before. Its absence is palpable. When he is in the kitchen cooking breakfast and Olruggio slides past him, his mind instinctively prepares for a hand on the waist and a quick kiss on the cheek, despite never having experienced it before. And in the evenings, when he allows his mind to wander a bit farther, his body feels achy from the lack of touch he receives. Yearning for something far more passionate than a kiss on the cheek and fleeting touch. His body craves it despite never having tasted it.

“Hey, Olly,” he says into the silence, a few clockmarks after dinner. “What do you say we open a bottle of wine now?”

He had picked out something different, not the typical Silvernectar wine they usually drink but a rather delicately aged Willowgrape Wine. He had found it a few weeks back at a merchants shop when visiting the Kalhn and while Qifrey isn’t one for exorbitant purchases, it felt worthwhile.

Back in the kitchen he uncorks the bottle and gives them each a generous pour.

“Why thank you,” Olruggio murmurs as he reaches for his glass. “What’s the cause for celebration?” Qifrey’s hands still, eyes narrowing in on Olruggio. Surely he hadn’t forgotten, right? This is their tradition, celebrating over a glass of wine together. They don’t do much to celebrate, but they’ve always done this.

“Olruggio,” he says carefully, trying not to sound disappointed. “Did you forget?” They stare at each other in silence for a moment. He watches the way Olruggio shifts under his gaze, his puzzled face as he tries to recall what today is. Perhaps he shouldn’t expect so much from him, he had been awfully busy these last few days, the dates might have slipped by him.

Then, he breaks into a wide grin, “Ha! Kiddin’, Qifrey. C’mon you think a few late nights at work would lead me to forget?” Qifrey’s face drops to a scowl.

“Not funny, Olruggio.” Olruggio chuckles then reaches behind him, fishing something out of his bag.

“Here, I got you this.” He holds out a small box in the palm of his hand.

“What- Olly! I didn’t get you anything, I can’t accept this!” He pushes Olruggio’s hand back, shaking his head frantically.

“Well I’ve already wrapped it for you, so just take it.” He gestures his hand out again, more demanding. “I spent a lot of time on it, so don’t laugh.” Adopting a puzzled look, Qifrey tentatively takes the box out of his hand. It’s light in weight and unassuming. Resting inside the box is a stone with some sort of spell engraved into it, save for the incomplete ring.

“What is this?” He asks quietly, eyeing the stone carefully. He turns it over, searching for any indication of what it may be.

“It’s a spell.”

“I can see that, thank you. Do you want me to close the seal?” Olruggio nods slowly, then hands him a searneedle, and relaxes his back into the couch to watch, nerves evidently dancing across his face. Qifrey slowly etches the final line to close the seal into the stone.

Immediately a light gently flashes above the stone, before settling into a dancing figure. Qifrey watches it, eye squinting, trying to make sense of the shapes moving in front of him.

“Is this…?” He starts, the sentence trailing off as his eyes widen, realizing what he is looking at.

It is Agott, Coco, Tetia, and Richeh all moving delicately above the rock. It isn’t incredibly detailed, as they are just flames after all, but Qifrey can make out the little details that make up the girls, like Tetia’s bouncing curls or Coco’s enthusiastic, bubbly movements. They move, flickering, almost life-like, and he almost he expects them to turn to look at him and laugh, ushering him to join them.

“Olly,” is all he can force out, the words and wind in him have evaporated. Adoration laces his name, he hopes he can convey just how special and thoughtful this gift is to him. He casts a glance over to Olruggio, who is hiding behind his hands, a small blush tinting his cheeks. Qifrey can’t help but laugh. Crouching down to get on his eye level, he pulls Olruggio’s hands away from his face. “There’s no need to be so bashful, Olly. This is remarkable.”

And it really is. Qifrey can’t find the words to adequately string together just how much this gift means to him. Instead, he turns to what he knows best, praise through actions. He tugs at Olruggio’s hand, lifting it up slowly to his face before placing a delicate kiss on the back of it. He looks up through his lashes at Olruggio, who is staring, eyes wide and a deeper set of crimson on his cheeks.

“You don’t need to be doin’ all that!” He sputters, flustered.

A smile creeps onto Qifrey’s face, a sudden flash of boldness coursing through him. “How else can I show you? I am truly thankful, Olly.” Olruggio can’t - or won’t - meet Qifrey’s gaze, eyes darting around him, which only feeds into Qifrey’s desire to praise him more. Throwing his head back slightly with a laugh, he pulls Olruggio to his feet. The man stumbles forward a step, unprepared, but Qifrey steadies him. Holding his hand out, silently telling Olruggio to stay in place, he disappears behind the couch. Olruggio stays put, his head only following Qifrey’s movements until he couldn’t turn any further without stepping out from where he’s been instructed to stay. Qifrey moves swiftly over to a wooden table where their Music Box has been placed. After fiddling with some of the mechanics, aligning the proper sigils, Qifrey closes the circle and a gentle, instrumental tune fills the room.

“Olly,” he calls out, and he watches as Olruggio turns to find him. “Dance with me.” He extends his hand out and waits for Olruggio to join him. It takes a moment, his brain evidently computing the request before slowly crossing the room to the empty space where Qifrey is waiting for him.

He takes Qifrey’s hand and guides him to the centre of the room. Letting his body settle into the song Qifrey put on, Olruggio takes the lead. He pulls Qifrey’s hand into his chest, closing their distance. His other hand finds the small of Qifrey’s waist, resting there comfortably, running a thumb up and down him, mindlessly. His body shivers at the feeling. Olruggio starts swaying in a rhythm that is foreign to Qifrey.

Qifrey has never been much of a dancer. He and Olruggio had attended one ball together back when they lived in the Great Hall, but due to certain circumstances, Qifrey merely watched Olruggio radiate from afar, never finding himself capable of participating in the festivities entirely.

But now, here, in the comfort and safety of the home they’ve built together, he can finally get the dance he so desperately wanted all those years ago.
They move together, and he finds it surprisingly easy to follow Olruggio’s lead, moving in tandem together. Resting his head on Olruggio’s shoulder, he lets his eye close, allowing his other senses to take the forefront, letting the music fill his ears, the sweet song dancing delicately in his mind. His mind drifts to the way Olruggio’s hands hold him, firm but gentle, and warm, even through the layer of clothes, Qifrey can feel the warmth radiating off of him. His trust is placed blindly in Olruggio, letting him guide them. He can feel the way their hips connect every so often, and the electric rush it fills him with.

It’s all new. And with a mind that no longer has to fight, he lets himself enjoy this, fully embracing what was once a mere fleeting fantasy.
He can smell the sweet wine on Olruggio’s breath, hardly there but with his heightened senses, there is just enough for him to notice. For a brief moment he wonders what his mouth might taste like. If he could taste the wine and dinner, and what else might be there, if there’s something that is distinctly Olruggio.

“Olly,” he breathes out, almost unintentionally, as though it were a thought pressing too hard into his mind and forcing its escape.

“Hm?” Olruggio murmurs back, he can feel the way Olruggio’s head shifts to look at him. He looks up to meet Olruggio’s eyes. Blue meets honey brown. Doe eyed and kind. He could get lost in them. In the way that they reflect his every emotion so easily, the soft glimmer in them in the low candlelight. He could spend the rest of his life studying everything about Olruggio and still feel like there was so much more to him still left to learn. He wants to learn and learn and never stop learning. He wants to be able to mark out every freckle that adorns his body.

It suddenly all feels to be too much, his feelings boil and bubble over. The vessel that once contained it all seems so poorly chosen, far too small to ever think of holding all of Qifrey’s feelings for Olruggio. Perhaps it has always been simmering, always on the precipice of losing all control.

Perhaps it was always bound to spill over one day.

He wants Olruggio. In every way conceivable. He is tired of never knowing what it feels like to be under his touch. To know how his lips feel against his. How his hands hold him when there are no longer any barriers between them.

“Can I cash in that favour you owe me?” He asks with a shy smile. Olruggio nods, waiting. He licks his lips nervously. “I’d like for you to kiss me.” It hardly comes out above a whisper, his nerves almost getting the better of him. Olruggio eyes widen slightly, darting across Qifrey’s face, scanning his facial expression, reading him, then fall to his lips.

“Really?” Olruggio asks, voice just as quiet and a little cautious, and Qifrey, unable to find his voice, merely nods. Taking the confirmation, Olruggio slowly drops Qifrey’s hand he was holding to reach up and cradle his face, running a thumb across his cheekbone. Biting his lip nervously, he moves in slowly. They stare at each other, Qifrey’s gaze darting down to his lips as the distance slowly closes. He can feel his heart nearly beating out of his chest. This had been a moment only granted to him in dreams, moments of weakness and desire. And now it’s here, mere moments away.

It’s gentle, a little reserved, and timid. Lips pressing against his. Olruggio’s facial hair pokes at his skin, tickling him slightly. It doesn’t last nearly as long as Qifrey had thought, ending far sooner than he would’ve preferred. Olruggio pulls away, sheepish, a deep blush that follows him up to his ears, he’s certain the same look is reflected on Qifrey’s face too. Qifrey offers him a smile, trying to ease the slightly awkward air.

“That alright?” Olruggio asks. Qifrey nods then tilts his head, pretending to think his answer over.

“You could do it one more time to be sure,” Qifrey says with a shy smile. Olruggio chews the inside of his cheek, trying to suppress a grin before placing another kiss on Qifrey’s lips. They stay like that longer this time, and Qifrey uses the opportunity to use his hand resting on Olruggio’s waist to pull him closer. Olruggio’s hand reciprocates the same motion, pulling Qifrey in as tight as possible, their bodies pressed flush against one another.

It’s Olruggio who progresses it further. He breaks away only to kiss him again, but this time with more pressure, and a little more intensity. The hand on his cheek slips to hold the back of his neck, keeping him close.

Qifrey has never kissed someone before. He’s not even entirely sure if Olruggio has either but if he hasn’t, it isn’t obvious to Qifrey. He parts his lips, moving carefully, inviting Qifrey to set the pace as their kiss turns into something more passionate. His hand presses into his waist, before sliding over the small of his back, exploring slowly. Qifrey mimics him, following Olruggio’s lead once more, letting his own hands run up and down Olruggio’s side, feeling out the way his muscles and skin feel beneath the fabric.
Olruggio pulls away, moving his mouth away from Qifrey’s lips, peppering kisses along his jaw. Instinctively, his head tilts back and a small sigh escapes his lips. Olruggio continues to kiss his jaw, dappling it with light pecks before working his way back to capture Qifrey’s mouth, smiling into the kiss.

With one final peck, Olruggio pulls back, smiling wide, and a little breathless, and studies Qifrey. And then, as if unable to resist himself, plants one more kiss to his cheek. And then one more.

They stare at each other for a moment, catching their breath. He can feel Olruggio’s warm breath on him, he’s so close he can see every detail on his face, the hairs that were freshly shaven just barely peeking through the skin, the hardly visible freckles that dapple his face like constellations, the rosy tinge on his glossy lips. Qifrey commits it all to memory.

“Where’d that come from?” Olruggio asks finally.

“I thought we ought to celebrate our evening right, I suppose. I’ve always wanted to know what it was like.”

“Oh?” Olruggio says, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “We could celebrate a bit more, if you wanted?”

Qifrey responds with a passionate kiss, letting them reconnect, far less reserved and clumsy this time. Qifrey loses himself in Olruggio. Everything that is distinctly him, the way he kisses, the grip on his waist, and the gentle scratching of his facial hair.

Absorbed in the kiss, Qifrey lets himself be greedy. Deepening the kiss, he slips his tongue into Olruggio’s mouth, before gently biting at his lower lip, earning him a low noise from Olruggio.

The noise wakes something up in Qifrey. Something he had let lie dormant for many years. But here and now, it’s awoken and it’s hungry, a decade long slumber has left its appetite insatiable. Qifrey’s hands drop to Olruggio’s waistband, hooking fingers into it briefly - a request - before raising his hands back to run along his ribcage.
Olruggio drops his hands to his ass, palming it carefully, pulling him in even closer. Their bodies are pressed flush against each other and Olruggio’s hands are kneading softly into the plush of Qifrey’s ass. He lets out a quiet sigh, letting his head fall back, giving Olruggio access to his exposed nape once again. Olruggio spares no time before he presses wet, open kisses to the exposed skin above his shirt. His hands leave Qifrey’s waist and prod aimlessly at his shirt, desperately trying to open it.

Qifrey lets out a breathy laugh, letting his hands find Olruggio’s gently pulling them away. “Let me,” he says softly. Olruggio backs up, watching intensely as Qifrey undoes the straps around his neck. His hands find Qifrey’s waist again, seemingly unable to stay empty for long. He watches intently as Qifrey works his shirt open, who purposely takes his time, letting the straps fall loosely around his neck one by one.

His eyes are hungry as he watches and it seems that it’s not just Qifrey who had something awoken in him too. And the minute Qifrey’s hands move away from his neck, Olruggio is back, placing his lips firmly on the previously hidden skin. He sucks gently eliciting a weak noise from Qifrey.

Qifrey, desperate for more, claws at Olruggio’s back, one hand sliding up to tug gently on his hair. Olruggio slips his hands down from his waist to cusp Qifrey’s ass. He kneads his hands into it carefully as he continues to work diligently on his neck, kissing, licking, and sucking every space available to him. Qifrey’s head is tilted back, lost in the sensation.

All this attention rushes straight to his core, burning hot with desire.

“Olly,” he whispers out, desperate and pleading. “Olly, please, I need more.” Olruggio stills for a moment, his lips stopping their endless pursuit of his neck, leaving his neck, just ghosting over his skin, hands coming to a halt. He tenses.

Was that too much? He shouldn’t have said anything. They just shared their first kiss only moments ago. Just because Olruggio kissed him does not imply he wants anything more than that.

Embarrassment floods him, bringing his hands to Olruggio’s shoulders to try and push him away but his movements are intercepted and quickly forgotten the moment Olruggio kisses him with fervor.

“Okay,” he says before kissing him again, and again. “Okay. I’ll give you anything you want.”

And he sinks to his knees.

Qifrey’s breath hitches, looking down at the sight below him. Olruggio’s hands find his hips, cradling him with doe eyes staring up at Qifrey.

“Like this?” He whispers out. Qifrey, unable to form any words, too busy marvelling over the sight to speak, can only find it in himself to nod hastily. A confidently nervous smile creeps on Olruggio’s face, he lets out a breath, “Okay.”

His hands slide from his hips into the waist band of his dress and slips it downward. Qifrey feels completely and utterly immobile, at the mercy of watching Olruggio undress him from his knees. His hands work quickly to undo the straps around his legs from his shirt and it takes Qifrey a few moments to register that this is the part he needs to do. With shaky hands he pulls his shirt over his head, leaving his entire chest exposed.

Olruggio’s gaze bounces across his body, and his hands find themselves exploring his stomach as far as they can reach. They’re warm, spreading more warmth in the wake of their movements. He shivers at the contact, breath becoming shallow from anticipation.

“Please,” is all he can muster out. Olruggio finally tugs off his pants, leaving him entirely exposed. His achingly hard cock sits in front of Olruggio, waiting eagerly.

He isn’t normally self conscious, but standing here, entirely bare, both physically and emotionally, for Olruggio suddenly has him analyzing himself under scrutiny. Does Olruggio like what he sees? He’s quite bony, he knows that, there’s not much that highlights his frame. Scrawny, people called him before, when they thought he couldn’t hear.

“You’re beautiful, Qifrey.” He places a kiss on the soft inner part of his thigh, running a hand along his side of his thigh, marveling. And when takes a hold of his cock, finally giving into the sensation he’s been begging for, Qifrey tries to let any doubt leave his mind, replaying Olruggio’s words over in his head until he starts to believe it. Olruggio lets out a shaky laugh, “Let me know if this is okay. I’m, uh, not really familiar with this.” His hand strokes his cock slightly, a trepidatious movement. Nerves, desire, and uncertainty mixed into the way Olruggio twists his wrist, stroking him carefully.

It feels incredible. The feather touch is already making his head spin.

Qifrey smiles down at him, something soft and sweet. His hands find his hair, threading his fingers through it soothingly. He wants to assure Olruggio the best he can, to say it’s just me, to remind him that even this is enough for him. More than enough.

“I’m not either, take your time. You don’t need to do this, if you don’t want.” Olruggio only shakes his head vehemently.

“No, no. I definitely want to. Just save your judgement, please.”

“I’d never judge you, Olly.”

With what seems to be settled nerves, Olruggio lets his grip tighten around him, pumping him a few more times before sliding his lips over the tip of his cock. His tongue feels out the shape of him, twisting around the head experimentally.

He lets out a breathy moan, hands tightening their grip on Olruggio’s hair. Warmth engulfs him and even the most minute movements elicit a noise from him, breathy, whiny, and lewd. A prick of embarrassment floods him from being so noisy despite Olruggio hardly doing anything. It’s quelled almost immediately as he feels the vibrations of quiet moans coming from Olruggio in response to his own.

With increasing confidence, Olruggio starts to move more, bobbing his head along his cock. His hand pumps the rest of him, encompassing everything Olruggio doesn’t fit in his mouth.

The sight alone nearly undoes Qifrey. He hardly wants to blink, afraid to miss even a moment of this. Olruggio, with his beautiful lips wrapped delicately around him, eyes locked on Qifrey’s, gazing up filled with lust, desire, and the eternal softness he adorns for Qifrey and Qifrey alone.

He feels his knees buckle as Olruggio runs his tongue along the sensitive underside of his head.

“Ha,” he huffs. “Olly, you’ll be the death of me.” Olruggio murmurs a response but whatever it was is muffled and lost.

His head is swirling, he feels delirious, on an Olruggio induced high. He feels close to coming, far too close. He isn’t ready for this to be over. Olruggio works diligently, confidence increasing with every noise Qifrey lets slip past his lips.

Olruggio slides himself further down the length of his cock, taking in more and more of him as he moves. He squirms. If he weren’t standing on his feet, forced to keep himself upright, his entire body would be jelly. His knees threaten to buckle at any moment.

“Olly,” he pants. “Olly, please you- this feels so good.”

The warm heat that engulfs his length, the wet, filthy noises coming from Olruggio, all push him closer and closer to the precipice. He watches with a lust-ridden gaze, admiring Olruggio’s pink cheeks, his red spit-slicked lips and how perfectly they fit around him, he watches how his hand pumps him so thoroughly. It didn’t take him long to map out all the ways Qifrey likes to be touched, moving expertly as though this wasn’t the first time. Qifrey honestly expected nothing less, there is no one else in this world that would be able to dissect Qifrey as well as Olruggio does. On any scale. He has, and will always be able to figure him out far faster than anyone ever could.

He looks beautiful. Truly radiant. Never in his wildest dreams had he thought this was a sight he’d lay his eye on.

Weak moans escape Olruggio as he continues, evidence of his own enjoyment seeping past his lips. He’d do anything to hear those noises on repeat.

“I’m- ah- ‘m close, Olly.” His grip tightens in his hair, probably tugging some strands out as his entire body tenses, the pressure building and building as Olruggio takes him deep, swallowing up his entire length. It’s all too much and without much more warning, Qifrey comes hard. Waves of pleasure course through him. He fights to keep himself standing, thankfully Olruggio seems to register his struggle and uses his hands to brace him, holding him upright while Qifrey pumps himself into Olruggio’s warm, welcoming mouth.

Slowly, he pulls himself off, leaving a trail of spit and come in his wake. Olruggio looks up, wiping at his lip slightly, a small smile ghosting his face.

“That alright?” Olruggio asks, with both sincerity and humour. Qifrey huffs out a laugh before pulling him upward and into a kiss. His arms wrap around his neck, pulling him in close.

“You always treat me so well,” he murmurs against his skin. Peppering kisses along Olruggio’s jaw he adds, “Allow me to return the favour.”

He guides Olruggio away from where they are standing and back towards the couch, where he strips Olruggio, slowly helping him undress before laying him down on the couch. He stands, overlooking him for a moment, taking in the sight below him. Olruggio is something worth worship. He almost feels like he can’t touch him, a precious artifact that deserves only to be admired from a distance. And at the same time, Qifrey feels the draw, his entire body being pulled into Olruggio’s orbit. His hands ache to touch his body, his mouth salivates at the sight of Olruggio undressed, hard, and waiting.

He crawls overtop of him, straddling him, kissing him filthily briefly before sliding his body downward.

He places open mouthed kisses along his sternum, letting instinct override his movements, running purely on instinct and desire. And all Qifrey wants to do is taste.
His tongue runs across his nipple, swirling easily around its point. His hands roam freely, running across his stomach, up his sides, giving a gentle squeeze on the plush of his skin.

Slowly, with confidence he didn’t know he had, he slinks down to Olruggio’s exposed lower half placing sultry kisses along his stomach as he trails downward, speaking in between kisses.

“Beautiful. Perfect. My star.” Sweet nothings murmured out between each kiss. Where his confidence has come from, he’s not sure. All he knows is that this is just him and Olruggio and he has nothing to fear when he’s with him. Not anymore. He’s spent his entire life dreaming about a way to return Olruggio’s kindness to him, to make him feel as adored as he had for him. And this is just one way he wishes to do that. One way to repay him for all that he’s given him.

He takes a moment to admire Olruggio from this angle too. Looking at him both above and below him are sights unlike anything else, but this one might be his favourite. The red tinge on his cheeks, colouring him so perfectly. Mouth agape, breathing heavy, eyes lidded fighting to stay on him, desperate not to lose sight of Qifrey like this too. His chest is rising and falling in anticipation, some areas of his skin shining in the low light, evidence of saliva left to dry from Qifrey’s journey downward. He looks wrecked and Qifrey hasn’t even properly touched him yet.

He’s waited his entire life for this.

“I bet you taste so good, Olly,” he whispers, voice laced with adoration as he takes Olruggio into his mouth.

A moan slips from Olruggio’s mouth immediately, ringing beautifully in Qifrey’s ears.

He works diligently, mimicking the movements that Olruggio used on him, swirling his tongue around the head, stroking his length as he focuses on the tip. He feels a bit like a fish out of water, unsure what steps to take, but the low noises that slip through Olruggio’s lips spur him onward.

“You’re killin’ me, Qifrey,” Olruggio says between breaths, voice husky. Qifrey hums a response, mouth too full and far too eager to want to take Olruggio out of his mouth for even a moment to properly reply.

He has a craving that needs to be satiated. Something rumbling inside of him and the only cure is this. He pumps Olruggio, hollowing his cheeks, taking him as deep as he can without gagging, running purely off of desire and Olruggio’s moans.

Moans slip past his own lips and he feels them vibrate against Olruggio’s cock. A stream of noises, broken sentences, and profanities slip out of Olruggio’s mouth, building and getting more jumbled the closer Qifrey drives him to his climax.

Olruggio comes into Qifrey's mouth and Qifrey continues moving, sucking him dry. His body twitches and jerks from the stimulation and Qifrey thinks for a moment to stop if it weren't for the incoherent moans of pleasure and breathless don’t stop’s pouring out of Olruggio’s mouth. Qifrey keeps Olruggio in his mouth, feeling his cock go soft inside him. He lazily swirls a tongue around him, unable to keep himself in check. He stays like that for a while, unable to pull himself away, until Olruggio tugs at him.

“You were incredible,” Olruggio murmurs as they lay together on the couch. He traces small shapes and lines into Qifrey’s back. Qifrey hums back, body and mind in too much bliss to reply. “I’ve dreamt about this for so long, y’know.”

“Me too,” he whispers back.

They get themselves redressed and Qifrey refills their glasses with more wine. The rest of the night unfolds exactly how it would any other time, except now Qifrey can steal kisses whenever he desires, Olruggio’s head rests on Qifrey’s lap instead of his legs. They recount the last ten years together, sharing stories the others haven’t heard yet, and Qifrey has never felt so complete before.

Sometimes when Olruggio is talking, Qifrey can’t help but get lost in his face, staring down at the marvel below him.
“I’ll never get sick of looking at you,” he says suddenly, cutting through whatever story Olruggio was telling. His face grows red but before he can respond, Qifrey bends down and places a firm kiss on his lips. “Sorry, please continue.” Olruggio suppresses a quick smile before continuing his story and Qifrey listens with diligent ears.

They have their entire lives to explore each other and in the meantime, Qifrey knows he will never tire of just being in Olruggio’s presence. Tomorrow will bring a new day, with new challenges and discoveries but for the rest of the evening tonight, it is just the two of them in their perfectly curated bubble and Qifrey couldn't want anything more.