Work Text:
It always happened the same way.
During the day, as Olruggio went about the Atelier helping the girls, taking a break from his work or eating food at the table with everyone else, he'd catch Qifrey looking at him more often than usual. The man appeared a bit more subdued, silent during conversations -except when it pertained to helping their apprentices with their magic (and wasn't it funny, that he now saw them as their apprentices, not just Qifrey's). But his friend's gaze would be fleeing, and he'd fret around with a nervous energy he usually didn't have.
At night, Olruggio would go to his room and wait. Fiddle anxiously with his hands until everytime, without fail, Qifrey would join him when the girls had gone to sleep. He'd lock the door behind him, and sit down in the confortable dark blue armchair that faced the bed.
It was a weird setup. Akward as hell. Neither of them ever suggested they change it.
Usually, Olruggio would already be laying there, reading a book or other, trying to calm his nerves. He'd lay it down, they'd avoid each other's gaze, and Olruggio would inch his hand down, and start working at himself through his pants.
The first time it had happened, it was a normal, regular day. They'd been waltzing around the Atelier all day, cleaning up the mess Tetia had made with a misshandled fire spell. They'd taken the time to reassure the young girl, and then took care of it all together, under the sound of the girls' laughter.
When they'd been done, and the afternoon sun was slowly starting to disappear under the horizon, Coco had invited everyone outside to take a break- Richeh and Tetia had followed, and Agott had gone to her room. He and Qifrey had decided to stay inside, blaming it on their "old bones" hurting too much. They simply both needed the silence.
After the whirlwind that were their apprentices had left, it had just been them. Olruggio had seen the tension in Qifrey's shoulders; the way he held them up high, near his ears, his nose crinkled in discomfort.
He'd gotten up from his chair, without comment or apparent notice from his friend- and slapped both his hands down on his shoulders.
Qifrey had jumped almost to the ceiling, then swiveled around in panic to look at Olruggio.
"Olly, what-"
Olruggio had taken his hands off, putting them up in sign of peace. "Calm down, I'm not gonna bite you. You just seem tense."
His friend had laughed. That fake, facade smile he used when he wanted to make the girls believe everything was fine. "I'm okay, don't you worry about me, dear."
"Yeah, yeah. I know when you lie, Qif. It's written all over your face." Olruggio was the one who had taught him how to smile like that, after all.
He hadn't noticed the downcast look that passed over Qifrey's expression. Instead, he'd put his hands back on Qifrey's shoulders and started massaging them lightly.
"I know you're strong, but you need to stop carrying all the heavy stuff by yourself. I know i don't look it, but I am still able to lift a crate when needed-"
"Aaaa- hn, Olly-" had escaped Qifrey's mouth.
That had jolted through Olruggio like lightning.
"Oh my, I'm sorry." The other man had looked slightly embarassed. "I think you got your thumbs into a real sensitive spot there."
Qifrey had kept talking, but Olruggio was somewhere else entirely.
He'd wrapped up the massage quickly, and excused himself to his room, face beet-red.
He realised later that he hadn't closed the door. But in the moment, it had escaped his mind completely. He'd thrown himself onto his bed, and slid his hand down his pants, Qifrey's voice replaying in his head on a loop.
"hn, Olly…"
It was intoxicating. So much so, that he hadn't heard the sound of soft knocks, or of someone pushing his door open. To this day, he still thanked the heavens it hadn't been one of the girls.
Kind, gentle Qifrey had taken a step inside, probably to check if his friend was alright- and they'd both stilled completely as their eyes met.
He'd expected Qifrey to hurry back out and close the door behind him, to leave Olruggio to eternal mortification. It's surely what should have happened.
Instead, they had looked at each other a little longer, and the man had entered completely, closing and locking the door behind him.
He'd raked his eyes over Olruggio's form, still hard as rock and hand on his dick, panting like he'd just finished sprinting, and had sat down on the armchair. Then he'd gestured at him to continue.
Olruggio had no clue why he obeyed. Or, actually, he knew: Because he was a fool. A good summary of his life. If Qifrey asked for something, and Olruggio could provide it, then he would, plain and simple. He had barely hesitated. And he hadn't stopped to think about the implications- or what it meant for his poor, fragile heart.
So Qifrey had stayed. He'd stayed, and watched Olruggio pleasure himself to thoughts of soft white hair and softer pleads, until he came in his hand, breathing hard.
Qifrey had stood up, walked out of the room, came back with a glass of water that he left on the nightstand, and left again. Leaving Olruggio alone with his thoughts for a long, long night.
Then it happened again. And again. It became a habit. They never talked about it. To this day, Olruggio still had no idea why Qifrey was doing this at all, because he didn't ask, and the man certainly hadn't offered any explanation.
From the start, after the heat of the moment had passed and he'd gotten around to understand exactly what had just happened, Olruggio had known it was a bad idea to indulge. He should have joked it off and moved on, and they would have pretended that Qifrey never even entered the room. He'd have thought about it everyday until the day he died with a healthy amount of shame, and that would've been it.
But Olruggio was a selfish man. Greedy. Just as he knew he was not making the right choice, he knew there wasn't a world in which he chose anything else. The flame he'd harboured in his heart for as long as he could remember meant he could only accept whatever this arrangement was.
He liked to think that it meant Qifrey wanted him, in a weird, twisted way. It wasn't true, of course; but he took his comforts where he could.
Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Olruggio sent a look towards Qifrey. As usual, he was hard, and as usual, he sat still and was doing nothing about it. Just stared at him from his usual spot, breathing heavily, but keeping his hands firmly planted on his knees.
Olruggio couldn't help but wonder what Qifrey got out of this. Supposedly, they were doing this for his benefice. Or at least he thought so. But sometimes, he wondered if maybe, this was just Qifrey's weird way of indulging Olruggio's bothersome feelings. A weird, fucked up act of kindness.
He tored his gaze away, groaned and threw his head back in pleasure. This was another part of their ritual that they seemed to agree on, without ever discussing it. Olruggio didn't look at Qifrey. He let him enjoy the show, and focused on himself. Although, he couldn't deny that the tentation to let his eyes wander was there. To try and decypher what in the stars' names was going through Qifrey's mind.
Alreading feeling the heat coil low in his guts, he gritted his teeth and started jerking himself slower, in long and languid movements. He could hear the hitch in Qifrey's breath, from the chair he was sat on. Those little, rare noises were Olruggio's favourite part. It reminded him of that first day. The only crack in Qifrey's composure. The only way to know this was affecting him, at least a little bit as much as it affected Olruggio.
Usually, when he felt himself come close, he would let it happen. But today, he slowed down. For some reason, this time felt different from all the others. Or maybe he was the one feeling uncharacteristically daring.
He let his head fall back down, and stared right at Qifrey as he kept stroking himself languidly.
His expression was made harder to see than during the day by the dancing shadows of the firelight; but his lips were tight, and his knuckles were white from how strongly he gripped the fabric of his pants.
"Yknow, you could do somethin' about that."
Olly's voice broke a silence that was seldom broken. Another taboo he chose to ignore today. Qifrey jumped a little at the sound.
"What do you mean ?" His voice was calm, controlled. The picture perfect image of unbothered, for someone who didn't know him. But Olruggio did know him. Better than anyone, he liked to think sometimes. And Qifrey's voice was stilted. The apparent control was forced, exagerrated. Olruggio huffed.
"Ya always just-" he bit back a groan, trying to ignore the pleasure slowly building up in his gut. "Sit there. Leave me to do this shit alone. But y'could…"
He gestured vaguely in the air with his free hand, at a loss for words.
Olruggio made a point to hold eye contact as he slowly went from the base of his cock to the tip, where he squeezed a little tighter and glided a finger over the top. He whimpered, his hips jolting unvoluntarily. He could feel himself blush. It felt stupid. He felt stupid; regularly jacked off in front of his best friend, but embarrassed by some eye contact.
He desperately wanted to look away, but found that he couldn't. There was a wave of challenge in his chest. He wanted to prod Qifrey, see if he could make him react. He willingly let more noises escape his throat as he jerked his hand up and down.
He could swear that Qifrey's hands, still gripping his robes, were trembling. And Olruggio could see Qifrey's wide eye behind his glasses.
For a long while, there was no answer. Olruggio sighed, and sped up his movements, touching himself harder. Small whimpers escaped, hips jutting up against his will, fucking into his fist.
He heard a moan.
It stopped him right in his tracks. His gaze shot towards the source of the noise.
Qifrey was hunched over, putting his face in the light and revealing his expression fully. He was red all over, and his jaw was clenched tightly. One of his hands was still in his lap, gripping his clothes like a lifeline. The other was pressed hard on the bulge that Olruggio knew to be there.
Qifrey exhaled, trying and visibly failing to regain his composure.
Olruggio felt that wave of challenge again. Born from months of being the only one to lay himself bare. Years of wanting to be let in the walls that Qifrey built all around himself.
Still looking right at his friend, he started stroking himself harder, while slowly roaming his other hand over his body. His chest, stomach, the inside of his thighs. He finished by lightly cupping his balls, letting out a choked noise.
"Qifrey…"
He knew it was cruel. Untoward. There was supposed to be a distance. A wall, unspoken and unadressed, between them. Each stuck to their side and to the role that came with it. They were an observer and an observee, who didn't interact with each other. But Olruggio didn't care much for distance at the moment. He wanted to send that wall tumbling down.
"C'mon. Touch yourself. I wanna see it."
The soft gasp that escaped his friend's mouth was heavenly. He wanted to hear it again. He fucked into his fist harder, feeling the sweat roam down his forehead and mixing with the dark hairs on his chest.
Qifrey was still breathing hard, seemingly struggling to hold himself upright. He was now actively rubbing himself with the palm of his hand, over his pants, his own hips jutting up into the friction.
The sight made Olruggio crazy. How he wished he could be over there, and be the one to make Qifrey feel good. He closed his eyes and imagined his hands were on a paler, more elegant body than his own. One he had fantasised about his whole life.
"Olly…" Qifrey's voice was breathless as it breached the silence once more. "You're beautiful."
Olruggio opened his eyes back. They looked at eachother for a second, and a laugh escaped Olruggio's mouth between panted breaths. "Me ? Have ya looked at yourself, ever ?"
Qifrey let out a huff. "This isn't about me, Olly." His other hand was still grabbing at his clothes, arm shaking slightly from the effort.
Olruggio frowned. How could this not be about him ? It was all about him. It had always been, in a way.
Carelessly, he let his thoughts slip out of his brain into the open air. "Y'know, I like hearing you. You sound good."
At that, Qifrey stilled for a second. "Do I ?"
Another laugh. "Yes, idiot. Actually, it's driving me kind of insane."
Silence. Had he said too much ? He shouldn't talk about his feelings, he knew that. Everytime he had tried, gathered enough courage to approach Qifrey and tell him what was in his heart, the other man had fled. He'd danced around the conversation, escaping as soon as he could. Olruggio had just concluded that Qifrey already knew; and he didn't want to address it. Not with words, at least.
Olruggio should be happy. Despite it all, despite his stupid feelings making things akward, Qifrey was still there. They were best friends, and partners, and it was enough. It was. However much it hurt, sometimes.
Qifrey's eye was piercing behind the glintint lense of his glasses as he stared at Olruggio. He was still clearly worked up, but he had that look on his face he got when he worked on a particularly difficult spell.
With more conversation than they'd had in all their sessions combined, Olruggio had stopped stroking himself, lost in thoughts. Though he could feel himself throbbing, his hips squirming and demanding attention, he waited. He wanted to know what Qifrey would say; what he would do.
Qifrey looked at him for a bit longer, than sighed heavily. He shifted in his seat, made himself more comfortable, and slowly slid his hand under his pants. Olruggio's breath hitched slightly.
He watched as the fabric started to move in rythm with Qifrey's movements, who was still staring at him with a wild look. A choked noise escaped him, and he bit his lip before gesturing to Olly.
Olruggio nodded shakily. He grabbed the hem of his garments and pushed them down, leaving himself bare to see. Qifrey whined as Olruggio took himself in hand once again, hard and leaking, and started jerking himself off once more.
The room was filled with only the wet sounds of skin against skin and their uncoordinated, panting breaths. Olruggio couldn't take his eyes off of Qifrey. The man looked wrecked.
The red of his face had reached his ears and was expanding down his neck, under the black collar of his shirt. His mouth was open slightly, and the muscles of his arm flexed with each movement.
A loud moan escaped his throat, and he slapped his free hand over his mouth, seemingly mortified. After a few seconds and a scalding glare from Olgurrio, he took it back off and seemed at a loss about what to do with it.
"Qif-" he bit back a groan. "You'd think someone as skilled with his hands as y'are, you'd know what to do with them."
"Nnhg- Ahn-" Qifrey was struggling to speak. "Do pray tell, i'm afraid -hnn- i'm not as experienced in those matters as I am in witchcraft."
Well, wasn't that information that Olgurrio would think about every night from now on. He groaned loudly. "God- use it on your chest, or something."
Qifrey bit his lip and started roaming his hand over his stomach, inching slowly up to his chest. When he reached it, he stroke over one of his nipples lightly.
"NHH-"
His head flew back, mouth wide open. Olruggio watched hungrily, drinking in the sight. He covered his own mouth with the inside of his elbow, trying to stop too embarassing noises from coming out.
Qifrey's head fell back down, looking dazed, pupil dilated. "I'm- this is not going to last long, I'm afraid."
"Sure- mphm. It doesn't have to."
Olruggio stroke himself faster, hypnotised by the view of Qifrey in a state he'd never seen him in before. Lips wet, hand on his cock, looking utterly ruined.
"Olly." Qifrey's voice was high, almost crazed. "I…"
He was interrupted by a moan, and another, and Olruggio watched as Qifrey shook, hips thrusting up into nothing, and came. His climax seemed to last for a bit, and Olly committed to memory his friend's blissed out look, eyes half lidded and rolled back, moans becoming silent with too much pleasure. How he wished he could kiss it away.
As Qifrey seemed to come back down, Olruggio could feel himself rapidly approaching the edge. He closed his eyes. Pictured Qifrey over him, slender hands on his hips and mouth around his cock, and came in turn.
He worked himself through it, feeling the hot cum plaster his stomach until the touch started to hurt, then stopped. He opened his eyes back up.
Qifrey was standing, hands balled into fists. Too tapped out to say anything, Olruggio stayed silent as the other man walked to the desk at the side of the room, and grabbed a small metal handle. He opened the Vapor Bubble and poured some water into a cup that was left on the table, then brought it over to Olruggio.
He took it with a nod, and drank the whole thing in one go under Qifrey's gaze. When he was done, he put the glass on the nightstand at his side.
Qifrey turned around, expression obscured by the hair that fell over the left side of his face, and Olruggio watched tiredly as the man left the room without a word.
He thumped his head back on the woodboard of his bed, and sighed.
He needed a drink.