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Olruggio has had enough.
Olruggio would consider himself to be quite kind. He always goes above and beyond for strangers. He’d break his back just to ensure it eases something off someone else's. He cares for others, sometimes more often than he should. Qifrey tells him just that, that he puts others' needs before his own far too often. But, well, that’s just the kind of guy he is. He wants to see others happy and he would do whatever means necessary to achieve that. Especially when it comes to those he truly cares for, the people in his life he holds close to his heart.
He has dutifully accepted his role in Qifrey’s life for a long time now. Whatever to make Qifrey happy.
His best friend. His live-in long-term roommate.
Anything but lovers.
Anything but whatever the fuck they actually have going on.
He has been patient and understanding for many, many years now. Always letting Qifrey set the terms and rules for their relationship. Indulging in the random bouts of flirting, teasing, and occasional drunken kiss. He will not ask, push, or pry for anything more, letting Qifrey take and take in whatever means necessary because he wants Qifrey to be happy. And well, he loves him, so why wouldn’t he do whatever he wants?
Truthfully, Olruggio hasn’t really minded their situation all that much. He is, generally speaking, quite content with their life and what they’ve built together. He loves the girls and is happy to spend his evenings with Qifrey, even if they don’t do anything. He loves to just be in his company, regardless of what they’re doing. The two of them could spend the entire day scrubbing the floors with a toothbrush and he’d be content.
So all things considered, he isn’t unhappy with their arrangement. It’s just that some nights it gets to him. He lets thoughts creep in, drifting somewhere beyond the line that was drawn a long time ago. And part of him, deep down, knows that Qifrey wants all the same things he does, but for some reason won’t let the two of them get there.
So, for once, Olruggio has decided to be selfish. To put his needs ahead of everyone else.
Tonight he is going to sleep with Qifrey.
He hasn’t really thought of a plan, and if Qifrey truly doesn’t want to, of course he wouldn’t do anything, but he knows somewhere inside that complicated, avoidant brain of his, he wants it just as bad as Olruggio.
His plan so far consists of dinner and a drink. So, not very different from most nights. He’s kind of just going to wing it, actually. Hopefully the drink will give him the bout of courage he needs to get them there.
It’s late afternoon, Qifrey and the girls are out in the fields doing some practical training. Olruggio should be working on a contraption that he’s supposed to have ready for some patrons soon. However, he’s been working tirelessly these last few days, so much so that the girls keep making comments towards him about how they never see him. Tetia once told him he looks like a ghost, both in his pale, sickly, sleep deprived appearance, but also how he seemingly haunts the rooms, drifting in and out silently as though he isn’t fully materialized. It’s definitely not a good look overall.
She isn’t wrong of course. It’s a shock whenever he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Sometimes he doesn’t even recognize himself. He’s just not great with time management, if he’s being honest and he unfortunately operates on an all-or-nothing mindset. If the deadline isn’t stressing him out, he isn’t going to get it done. It’s a terrible habit he’s tried desperately to kick but still hasn’t quite figured it out yet. And after twenty years of trying to find a solution, it’s time to throw in the towel- as some might say - and accept his fate.
So he’s in the kitchen, preparing dinner for everyone because his deadline just got extended to next week, and now he’s got all the time in the world to work so what better way to spend his newfound free time than cooking for his family?
That’s where this whole sleeping with Qifrey idea came about. Over a simmering pot of gravy. It’s easy to let your mind wander when your body is doing a mindless task.
His hand stirs the sauce slowly, careful to not let any spot sit for too long. In the oven baking are some fresh buns.
He’s making a roast dinner. The roast has been simmering all day (put on by Qifrey this morning), cooking low and slow. He’s been boiling several potatoes over an open flame just off to his right, as well as a variety of veggies being steamed over top.
Maybe a nice salad would be a good addition too? Qifrey’s garden is sure to have plenty of fresh veggies and lettuce to pick from. How much more work would it be to whip up a salad dressing and chop some vegetables?
Well it’s not like he needs to be working right now or anything.
Time passes quickly and Olruggio doesn’t plan much more for quest tonight, simply deciding to let future Olruggio figure that one out. Instead, he loses himself in the process of dinner. His arms moving rapidly, stirring, tossing, chopping, mashing everything and anything around him. By far the most stressful time during cooking is the last few moments when everything seems to finish at the exact same time. Usually around this time in cooking his mind blacks out, letting his body take over until he’s standing proudly staring at what he’s created.
Qifrey and the girls are set to be home any tick now, since Qifrey likely thinks he should finish preparing dinner meaning Olruggio only has a few moments to plate and set the table all before Qifrey swoops in and demands he helps.
The poor man can never let someone else treat him without feeling guilty.
Ha, well little does he know what Olruggio has planned for him tonight.
Is that a bit presumptuous? Maybe. But he’s fairly confident it’s going to work out how he imagines it will.
He fills the kitchen table with pots full of food, a wonderful display of the full meal Olruggio spent all afternoon slaving over. Taking a stand back, he places his hands on his hips and admires his hard work. The roast (albeit prepared by Qifrey but monitored by Olruggio) looks perfectly tender, the potatoes have been mashed into a silky smooth texture, gravy made from the fresh roast drippings, boiled carrots and turnips diced and mixed together, and finally to top it all off, a beautiful, salad with a homemade balsamic dressing using all fresh vegetables from Qifrey’s garden.
Man, who knew he could be so productive. Funny how it only works for cooking and not his actual job.
As if on queue, he hears the steady chatter of four girls piling into the atelier. He can’t make out much of what they’re saying until it falls silent momentarily before loudly-
“What smells so good?” It comes from Coco, followed by eight quick feet barrelling into the dining room.
“Master Olly made dinner!” Tetia squeals. “And it looks incredible!”
“What’s this?” Qifrey’s voice comes in, quiet and sounding a little drained. His face perks up as he takes in the display. “Olly made dinner? My, don’t you have work to do?” He asks with a sly grin.
“Ah, deadline got extended. Thought I’d help out at the atelier today.” Qifrey hums in response, eyeing the food set out in front of him. “It’s ready, if you’re all hungry.”
Hands, plates clinking, food being scooped out, it all happens in a flurry and before he can even realize it, the four girls are seated and eating away happily.
“This all looks incredible, Olly,” Qifrey murmurs beside him, quiet enough for just the two of them. “You should’ve waited for me to help, this is a lot of food to prepare all by oneself.”
“Don’t be daft, Qifrey. I made sure I was done before you came back specifically so you wouldn’t have to help me.” He picks up a plate and hands it to Qifrey. “Here, eat up. It’s tiring work teaching, I’m sure.”
“Oh, thank you,” he says sheepishly, taking the plate as a small blush tints his cheeks.
“Oh-” he says, grabbing Qifrey’s cape before he can chicken out. “Wine tonight?” Qifrey stares at him, pink still dusting his cheeks and he nods with a small smile.
“Sounds lovely.”
He might’ve overdone it with dinner. He prepared a lot of food. Somehow too much despite there being six people to eat it all, and even after everyone had their fill he is still left with heaps of leftovers.
Perfect for the girls lunches though, so Qifrey should be happy about that. He busies himself with scrubbing the many dishes he dirtied while Qifrey works quietly in the dining room, cleaning off the table, moving the dishes into the sink for Olruggio to clean.
That’s been the system for years now. Qifrey cleans the space, Olruggio does the dishes. It works well, since Qifrey has such a disdain for washing dishes and Olruggio doesn’t mind the repetitive satisfying nature of it. In return, Qifrey keeps the rest of the kitchen tidy for him, so that dishes are all he needs to focus on. It’s an efficient system they’ve curated perfectly over the last decade or so.
“Dinner was wonderful,” Qifrey hums, resting his back against the kitchen counter, watching Olruggio as he works on a particularly stubborn bit of food on a plate. “Thank you for doing that.”
“Mm, ‘course. Gotta make sure I pull my weight around here every so often, y’know.” Qifrey lets out a small chuckle, laced with something fond.
“You do plenty around the house and you know that.” Qifrey is wearing a loose smile, comfortable and amused. His hands are pressed against the counter, supporting his back as he watches Olruggio clean. He had abandoned his cloak at some point, sporting his usual tight black top and skirt but if he’s lucky, after the girls go off to bed he might change into something more relaxing and loose fitted that will drive Olruggio mad. “Hey, why don’t I pour us a glass of wine right now? The girls are outside and probably will be until bedtime.”
Olruggio turns to get a proper look at him and his eyes naturally gravitate down to his mouth. He studies the way his lips turn upward in his loose smile. How soft they look. Does he put something on them to make them look that soft? He must. There’s no way that’s natural.
Wow he wants to kiss him bad.
It’s actually become incredibly not funny how bad it’s gotten. Interesting how once you let the flood gates go, the body reacts accordingly. He feels completely and utterly incapable of hiding behind these feelings anymore. He had been teetering on the edge for too long and now he’s in freefall, falling directly down into the abyss that is Qifrey.
He’s staring, he can’t help but stare. Not when Qifrey is standing in front of him like this. With the evening glow hitting his face like that.
“Olly?”
Oh right he had been asked a question. What was it? Something about the girls?
“My eye is up here, you know?” He says teasingly, then, softer, “What are you thinking about?”
“Oh, um, nothing.” Qifrey furrows his brows in obvious amused disbelief.
“I won’t press, I suppose.” He pushes himself off the counter, turning away from him. “I’ll pour the drinks,” he adds with a lighthearted laugh.
Olruggio watches Qifrey go, walking over towards the cupboards with the fancy glasses, he reaches up, grabbing two glasses from the top shelf. Olruggio nearly lets the soapy wet plate slip through his fingers; he's so distracted by the sight. The straps of his dress are resting at his waist, leaving his entire torso exposed in his tight-fitted black shirt. He wears it every day, it isn’t a new sight to Olruggio, but in the light of the sun set, with his newly embraced infatuation he has never looked more mouth-wateringly enticing.
“Silvernectar? Or -ooh- we have a lovely aged willowgrape wine as well.” Qifrey says, sorting through their wine cabinet. When Olruggio doesn’t reply, eyes still locked on his figure, Qifrey continues, unaware of his intense gaze. “I think silvernectar, though. It just goes down so well, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Mhm,” he murmurs out, transfixed. Then it happens, his mind far too distracted by the sight in front of him, he actually lets go of the plate he was washing and it smashes down on the floor loudly.
“Olruggio!” Qifrey cries out, spinning around. He rushes towards him. “Are you okay?”
Broken out of his trance, his eyes snap down to the shattered plate at his feet.
“Yes, sorry it slipped out of my hands. I’ll clean it up.” He bends down and starts collecting the broken pieces, holding them gently in his hands. He needs to get it together. It’s just that Qifrey is… well Qifrey. And how can Olruggio fight against that? He is a weak, weak, man, in more ways than one and Qifrey is his biggest weakness.
"Perhaps we should wait on the wine then,” says Qifrey, amused once he had determined Olruggio was unharmed. “The girls will be going to bed in a few clock marks, anyway.” Olruggio merely nodded, picking up any remaining pieces of the broken plate before cleaning up the wet spot it left as it touched ground.
Coincidentally - and thankfully - it was the last dish he needed to clean.
Letting the water drain down the sink he heads over to the living space to crash and wait for the girls to go off to bed. Qifrey sits beside him on the couch before opening the book he’s been reading. Olruggio, testing his luck, just to see how receptive Qifrey is today to physical touch (and maybe because he just wants to be touching Qifrey somehow) he stretches his legs over Qifrey’s lap, letting himself take up the entire length of the couch.
“You’re a couch hog,” Qifrey says lightly but doesn’t look away from his book, and Olruggio’s legs don’t move an inch.
The girls come back inside a few clockmarks later. What they were doing out there is beyond him, but they come back in muddy, dresses covered in dirt and grass stains, and huge smiles.
“Girls!” Qifrey gasps, taking in the sight of the four girls standing in the doorway. “ Is everyone alright? Were we just having fun or was someone hurt?”
“Coco was showing us a game from her childhood!” Replies Tetia enthusiastically.
“We’re fine, master, just dirty.” Agott assures, looking down at her dress, attempting to brush off some of the dirt that is clinging to the skirt of her dress.
“Oh my, please go take baths before bed, then. I’m glad to hear you all were having fun out there. Would you like me to come up in a little bit to say goodnight?”
“No, we’re okay tonight! Goodnight master Qifrey and master Olly!” Coco says as she turns, already ready to head upstairs.
“Goodnight girls,” Qifrey says warmly. “Sleep well.”
“G’night,” Olruggio mumbles out, “Hope you’re not too sick of the dirt yet, I think master Qifrey has something up his sleeve for tomorrow’s lesson.” The girls squeal before running up the stairs to their bedrooms and bathrooms.
“Goodnight!” They chime as they disappear up the stairs.
“What on earth were they playing out there?” Qifrey says lightheartedly while running two fingers along the bridge of his nose. Olruggio snorts in reply.
“Kids doin’ kid things. As if we didn’t get a little dirty from time to time.”
“Hmm, this is true.” Qifrey pats his legs, and Olruggio feels electric shock travel up his body at the simple touch. “Shall I go get us some wine now?”
“Y-yes.”
If Qifrey notices how flustered he got over an innocent leg tap, he doesn’t let it show, merely waits for Olruggio to lift them so he can slide out and get them their drinks.
He hums a tune mindlessly as he disappears into the kitchen. Olruggio wipes his face. He needs to get it together.
Qifrey returns with two glasses of wine, handing one silently to Olruggio before taking a sip of his own. Olruggio sits up, unless he has a straw or something, drinking while laying down is certainly a challenge. The wine goes down smoothly, it’s by far his favourite alcoholic beverage. The slightly sweet, acidic drink, there’s honestly nothing that compares. Especially once you develop a taste for the varieties. The slight changes, hints and undertones of different bottles, it’s a real art in subtlety. Maybe in another life he would’ve been someone who drinks wine for a living. That’s gotta be a thing, right?
Well, he’s here. Sitting on the couch, drinking a glass of wine with Qifrey, just like he had planned. It’s a shame he didn’t plan much farther than this, he has no idea what to do from here. Foolishly, he had thought he could just figure it out once he got here. As if evening Olruggio was somehow marginally more wise and prepared than afternoon Olruggio. But he won’t let this slip through his fingers. If nothing else, Olruggio needs to confess his feelings at least. He cannot keep living in this limbo anymore.
Is he prepared to lose Qifrey if it doesn’t work out?
No, Qifrey wouldn’t abandon him. If Qifrey doesn’t reciprocate any of these feelings, he’s sure he’d just smile awkwardly and assure him it’s okay and that they can still be friends. And it might take a bit of time, but they’d get over it. And Olruggio would learn to live with it. He could do another twenty years like this if he had to.
Qifrey does reciprocate the feelings though. He knows this. Qifrey has kissed him before, hot and heavy, desperate before yanking himself away as if there were some greater power keeping him away. He isn’t blind to the way Qifrey’s touch lingers, how his gaze dips to his lips, and sometimes there are days when he stands a little too close, letting their hands brush together lightly without moving away.
It’s just that Qifrey is, well, complicated. Olruggio isn’t entirely sure what it is. Despite his bubbly and generally sunshine-y personality, Qifrey has always kept his secrets close to his chest, incredibly well guarded. He has tried, for years now, to break down those walls, and despite Qifrey assuring him that it isn’t Olruggio that is the problem, he still never lets him in, no matter how hard he persists.
And for some reason, this secretive second life he lives somehow extends into his romantic life, once again holding Olruggio at arms length with little to no explanation.
It ends today. It cannot be healthy to be holding in whatever it is Qifrey keeps a secret. He just wants to be let in.
Well, and to kiss him senseless. Obviously.
“You’re staring, Olly.”
“You’re nice to look at.” It comes out immediately.
Where’d that come from? Did he actually just say that? Before he has the chance to backtrack, Qifrey makes a small noise, it’s hardly audible, and his cheeks go bright pink.
Oh. He needs to hear that sound again. Is this the boost he needs to keep going?
“What? Do you not think so?” He asks, tilting his head to the side. Qifrey keeps his gaze away. Confidence builds inside him. “I think you’re beautiful, Qifrey.”
“Olly?” Qifrey squeaks, sheepish. “What are you doing?” Olruggio repositions himself so that he is facing Qifrey, looking him into the eye.
He takes a deep breath in.
Here goes nothing.
“Qifrey, I- I would very much like to kiss -um- you.”
Yikes, not quite as confident as he wanted to come across. Heat rises to his face, he can feel his cheeks growing hot.
Qifrey lets out another surprised gasp, eye going wide. His face flushes in a shade of pink that is likely replicated on Olruggio’s face.
“What?”
“I want to kiss you,” he says, more steady this time. Qifrey shifts a bit, hands clasped together, unsure what to do. Olruggio waits, patient as ever, allowing Qifrey the time to think whatever thoughts he needs.
“I don’t think we should, Olly.”
An unsurprising answer, unfortunately.
“Do you not want to?” He presses. He is not so easily swayed any more. There are things Qifrey fights him on even when he wants it too. He’s just a bit stubborn in that regard.
“Don’t misunderstand me,” Qifrey says quietly as he looks away, twisting his hands awkwardly in his lap.
“You always do this. Why won’t you let yourself have things?” He’s going for a softer approach, as though to not startle a frightened animal. Too much and he’ll cage up, maybe even bite him and that’s not what he’s going for. The last thing he wants to do is fight with him. So he’s going in with his classic unwavering kindness. It’s something that comes easy to him. Especially when it’s directed at Qifrey. He seems to have an unlimited amount of patience to offer him. A reservoir with a bottom that has never seen the light of day.
Qifrey sighs, leaning back against the couch. He sounds a bit resigned. He hadn’t broken through to him so soon, has he?
“Perhaps just one will be okay.”
Olruggio chuckles lightly, “Not like we haven’t done this before.”
“Ah, well-” Qifrey says, a bit flustered, hands picking at themselves helplessly. “I can’t help myself sometimes, I suppose.”
Olruggio leans forward, closing the gap between them quickly. He presses his lips against Qifrey’s, letting his hand come up to cup his cheek, holding him there. If he’s only allowed one kiss, he will take it, but he will make sure it’s worth it.
Qifrey holds him there too, his hands finding Olruggio’s face quickly. It feels different than all their drunken kisses before. Maybe it’s because this time the drink they shared has hardly even hit their systems. This is just a plain old real kiss. Point blank.
That thought alone makes Olruggio’s mind short circuit. He’s here, kissing Qifrey. Pretty much, like, 97% sober.
And it feels incredible. Otherworldly. His lips are just as soft as they look, moving gently against his. His cheeks are warm, does he normally run hot or is it from the blush that was painted on him from moments prior?
He wants this all to himself. He wants to wake up next to him. He wants to see him unraveled beneath him. He wants to feel his touch comfortably. To know him blind. To be able to map out any freckles or moles or scars hidden underneath his clothes.
He hopes Qifrey can understand it from the kiss alone. The passion and desperation. Please, he wants to say, please let us have this. Don’t you see how good it could be?
He just channels it all into his kiss, letting his tongue trace over Qifrey’s lips, waiting for permission, to which Qifrey seems to happily provide, his mouth falling open, letting Olruggio in with ease.
Their tongues dance together sloppily. He doesn’t spend much time thinking if this is the proper way to kiss, just doing what feels right. Qifrey is the only person he’s ever kissed, and he’s pretty sure the same goes for Qifrey so it doesn’t really matter. They’re figuring it out together.
His free hand moves to Qifrey’s waist, pulling him in closer. It travels to the small of his back, then back to his waist, feeling him out, understanding the way his body curves.
It’s Qifrey who pulls away. His head is thrown back, his chest rising and falling rapidly from the lack of oxygen. He lets out an airy laugh.
“Are you trying to kill me?” Qifrey says breathlessly.
It’s also Qifrey who goes in for a second kiss.
And Olruggio’s head is spinning. He slams back into him, his hands gripping Olruggio’s face as though he might slip through his fingers.
With the assurance of Qifrey going back for seconds, Olruggio leaves Qifrey’s lips. A quiet protest leaves Qifrey and he nearly returns immediately, but his mind is elsewhere now. It’s time to explore.
He kisses along Qifrey’s jawline, tilting his head back slightly to give him easier access to his neck. He kisses down his throat and along the hem of his shirt. He moves painfully slow, so slow he nearly frustrates himself, but he wants to savour this. Remember exactly how it feels.
Qifrey makes an impatient whimper sound, tugging on his shirt slightly to come back up but Olruggio holds firm. He’s just being a bit selfish, he knows this, but he can’t stop.
He wants to kiss every inch of his body. No stone left unturned.
Slowly, so slowly, he works his way back up to Qifery’s lips.
They make out slowly. Taking their time. Somehow, Olruggio isn’t even sure when it happened, they’ve repositioned so that Qifrey has his back propped up slightly on the arm rest, and Olruggio overtop of him in between his legs. Their bodies are flush against each other, Qifrey’s hands roaming his back, up and down rhythmically while Olruggio’s are lost in Qifrey’s hair.
It’s then that he hears it. When he pushes his leg up higher between Qifrey’s. A moan. A real, honest, moan.
He freezes. And so does Qifrey.
He pulls away quickly, his eye wide. That might’ve just been the hottest thing he had ever heard.
“Oh!” Qifrey starts, backtracking. “Sorry I just-”
Olruggio quiets him with a firm kiss.
“You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” Olruggio murmurs against his lips. “Don’t apologize."
They melt back into it. This time, Olruggio is chasing the sounds Qifrey makes. He takes a leap of faith and grinds down onto him. It’s timid, he knows that, a little shy, but he’s testing the waters, studying the way Qifrey’s breath hitches, feeling the way the kiss halts for a moment, before Qifrey comes back with more intensity than before.
They stay like that for who knows how long. Olruggio is lost in Qifrey, grinding slowly into him. Time is irrelevant. He would spend the rest of his life just like this. He’d stay here for so long his body would wither away and their skeletons would be found locked together like this. The only thing he wants is to be here, intertwined with Qifrey.
But here’s something about Olruggio people may not know, he is actually pretty greedy. It’s not something he’s proud of, but he is human after all. Generally speaking, his desire to please others outweighs his desire to have more so he keeps it well under wraps but it’s always there, lingering, calling out to him to take more, and more. He just usually doesn’t give in, he’s got a good resolve like that.
But right here? How could he ever refuse that part of him?
So he grinds down harder, letting his achingly hard cock that he’s been ignoring get its much needed friction. He lets out a breathy moan into Qifrey’s mouth. Breaking the kiss he moves to Qifrey’s ear, where he bites gently on the lobe before whispering into his ear, “This alright?”
“Yes,” Qifrey replies, breathless as he grinds back into Olruggio. The sensation makes him lighthearted.
“Can I take your clothes off?” He asks as he sucks on the exposed parts of Qifrey’s neck and jaw.
“We should - ah - go somewhere where - where the girls won’t see us.”
It takes Olruggio a few moments to pull away. It’s pure greed, he knows this. But eventually, with a bit of persuasive tugging from Qifrey, and the idea of getting this and more moves him upward. He helps Qifrey to his feet, wobbling a bit as he stands and Olruggio lets out a small laugh. He takes Qifrey’s hand, pulling him quietly towards his room. They don’t say much and all Olruggio can focus on is how perfect Qifrey’s hand feels in his. How innocent the gesture is and yet it’s fueling his desire exponentially.
There isn’t much talking even when they get into his room, Qifrey stops any of the sort from happening, tugging Olruggio into a passionate kiss. Olruggio guides them blindly towards his bed, unable to break free for even a moment to see where they’re going. He keeps moving them slowly until the backs of Qifrey’s knees hit the bed. He lowers him into the bed before crawling up and over him. He grinds down slowly on to Qifrey. Any hardness he may have lost in the walk over is instantly replenished, his cock aches every time Qifrey bucks his hips up into him.
Olruggio can feel Qifrey’s hands grasping at his own neck, untying the neck of his shirt with efficient speed. Olruggio quickly tugs his own shirt off before sitting back to admire Qifrey as he pulls his off.
His eyes rake over his half exposed body. His cock twitches in anticipation.
He’s seen Qifrey shirtless before. Par for being best friends for over twenty years and living together for about half of them. This feels different though. It’s bathed in a new light and what he used to steal minute glances at, he now has the privilege to bask in.
Qifrey squirms a bit, “No need to stare, Olly.”
“You’re radiant,” he says simply. Relieving Qifrey from his gaze, Olruggio lowers himself, placing open kisses along his stomach. Qifrey twitches, hips bucking instinctively from the contact. His head lolls back, hitching his breath. Olruggio kisses every available spot of Qifrey’s stomach and chest. Leaving wet, sloppy marks behind, as if to say I was here.
He takes his time, savouring the feeling of Qifrey’s body on his lips. It’s reverent in his movements.
His hands slip to the waistband of his dress, tugging gently, waiting for permission. Qifrey only nods enthusiastically.
A smile creeps on Olruggio’s face. He slips the rest of Qifrey’s clothes off and trails kisses down his stomach towards his cock, hands following behind him.
He wants him to feel his utter devotion.
I would give you this any time you ask.
I would burn villages down for you.
I would worship you.
He runs a hand along his length, eliciting another soft noise from Qifrey, whose eye is blown wide watching Olruggio, mouth agape.
Then he sinks lower, placing kisses into the soft plush parts of his thighs, nipping gently. Hand still running slowly over his cock, teasing.
Qifrey’s hands find his hair, tugging on it gently, a silent plea to stop the teasing and to get on with it. Olruggio obliges, because he would give Qifrey anything he asks for. His lips leave his thighs, where he leaves more open kisses up the length of his cock. Kissing the very tip before returning to the base to give it one long lick with a flattened tongue. Qifrey moans as Olruggio slips the tip into his mouth. He sucks gently, letting his tongue swirl over the head languidly. The grip in his hair tightens, only adding fuel to the fire. His own cock aches from Qifrey bucking into him carefully, the noises slipping past his lips, the tug in his hair. It’s everything he’s ever dreamt of and more. So much more.
No dream could match up to the real thing. Nothing could ever compare to the feeling of Qifrey beneath him, whimpering and whining because of him and him alone.
His hand strokes the rest of his length as he focuses his efforts on the head, letting his tongue run along the sensitive underside. Every so often he sinks lower, taking in his entire length, bobbing up and down, letting it hit the back of his throat.
His eyes are locked on Qifrey, studying him. Memorizing him. His face is rosy, eye lidded, trying hard to stay focused on Olruggio, but evidently struggling. He looks beautiful from down here. He’ll never get over this sight. What a privilege he’s been given.
“Ah- ah- Olly-” he whimpers out, hands tightening in his hair. “Please I’m gonna-”
He pulls off. His mouth already misses him.
Qifrey lets out a frustrated noise. Perhaps that was a bit cruel of him.
“Sorry, I’m just not done with you yet.” He gives his cock a sweet kiss on the lip, swirls his tongue around it, feeling Qifrey buck into him, desperate for more. But instead, Olruggio slides back up to meet his face. “Can I fuck you, Qifrey?”
“Please,” he whispers back, nodding. “Please, please, please.”
Wasting no time, Olruggio pulls the rest of his own clothes off, casually discarding them beside his bed. He allows himself a moment to rake over Qifrey’s entirely exposed body, relishing in the way his cock drips precum, red and angry from being brought to the precipice with no reward. He almost caves and finishes the job but he holds strong, they both must be patient.
He fishes out a small vile of lubrication, coating his fingers generously with it.
“Okay, tell me if it’s too much, alright? I don’t want to hurt you.”
His fingers ghost his hole, rubbing it gently, letting Qifrey ease into the sensation before slowly slipping one finger in. He is immediately engulfed by a tight heat. Qifrey bites back a moan, shaking slightly at the sensation. He waits and after a few moments letting Qifrey adjust, he starts pumping his finger in and out slowly. He kisses his sternum, licks and sucks at his nipples, kisses his neck. He can’t seem to keep his mouth away from Qifrey for very long.
After some time, Olruggio adds a second and third finger, patiently opening him up, letting him relax into it. Qifrey has unraveled beneath him, squirming, panting, begging. His own cock aches, screaming at him to pay attention to it, but his focus is locked on Qifrey, paying sweet attention to him and him alone.
By the time Qifrey has been sufficiently opened up and prepared for Olruggio, he is a sweaty, blissfully pliant thing. Olruggio cradles his face, peppering kisses across his cheeks, whispering quiet praises. You are doing so good. You’re perfect.
He lines himself up, pressing the tip of his cock against his perfect hole. Qifrey gasps at the pressure.
“It’s alright, we’ll go slow, yeah? Tell me if it’s too much. You’re beautiful, Qifrey.”
He pushes in, carefully. He feels drunk on desire. He’s seeing stars. Qifrey’s heat envelops him, his tightness gripping him as he pushes in further. They’re both moaning, letting out breathy noises until he bottoms out.
He stays there for a moment, eyes locked on Qifrey’s, relishing in his pink cheeks, the way he fights to keep his eye open. Qifrey lets out a light laugh, squirming mildly as Olruggio studies him. He kisses him quickly to ease his nerves. Qifrey should feel safe and comfortable here with him, that’s all he wants.
“You feel incredible.” He whispers against his lips. “You were made for me.” He presses his forehead to Qifrey’s as he starts to move, pumping in and out carefully.
Qifrey’s legs tighten around his waist, tugging him closer as he claws desperately at his back. He spews an incoherent slew of words as Olruggio picks up his pace. He nearly comes just at those sounds alone. He sounds utterly heavenly to Olruggio’s ears.
“Olly,” Qifrey mewls, kissing frantically into his neck, holding him close. “You feel - ah - you feel so good.”
He’d devote his life to making Qifrey feel good. He really would.
“You have no idea what you’re doing to me, Qifrey. I’d spend the rest of my life inside you like this,” he coos. “Look how perfect you are, taking me so well.”
He can already feel his climax approaching. He’s a thirty year old virgin, for goodness sake, cut him some slack. He pumps harder, letting his thrusts smack into Qifrey’s hips with careful force. His free hand takes Qifrey’s aching cock and strokes it eagerly, letting the precum and saliva work as a lubricant. Qifrey twitches and bucks his hips into Olruggio, searching for more. Olruggio can hear himself rambling, words leave his mouth without any thought. He is incoherent, head ascending above the clouds. All he knows is Qifrey. He pumps Qifrey frantically, bringing them both to their highs. All he can hear beyond the haze is Qifrey's moans, the only thing keeping him tethered to the earth.
He fights his mind for clarity, locking in focus on Qifrey’s face. He wants to see Qifrey come undone and to see what he looks and sounds like when it all comes to a head.
“Qifrey,” he pants. “Qifrey, look at me. I want to see you.”
Qifrey, clearly also lost in the haze, pries his eye open and locks onto Olruggio. He’s panting hard, sweat beading down his temple. He looks beautiful. Far more beautiful than Olruggio ever could’ve imagined.
That’s what pushes him over the edge.
He comes hard and fast, pumping himself deep into Qifrey. It takes all his composure to stay focused on Qifrey through his climax watching as he comes undone beneath him immediately after. Olruggio pulls him in close, letting him ride out his high in his tight embrace.
“You’re perfect.” he whispers in his ear, gentle and grounding as Qifrey settles into him. Qifrey lets out a shaky exhale mixed with a light laugh. They rest there, still connected, sticky come between them coating their stomachs as they press their bodies together.
Olruggio presses his forehead to Qifrey’s, “I love you.”
Qifrey’s eye goes wide, before hastily pushing Olruggio off of him.
“Olly, I need to leave.” He says quickly.
“What?”
“I’m - I’m sorry. I need to leave. Now. Please.” It takes him a moment to compute the request - the demand - before he slips off the bed, giving Qifrey space to get up. He stumbles as he tries to stand up and Olruggio immediately reaches out to catch him, holding him steady.
His brain is too shocked from the sudden mood change to say anything more, he can only merely watch as Qifrey dresses himself in silence. Olruggio casts a quick glance around him, grabbing the first pair of underwear he can see and slipping them on. Desperate, he traces the outline of Qifrey’s back, the gentle curve of his lower back. He studies it, trying to commit it to memory. If this is the first and only time, he wants to remember it all.
Had he done something wrong? Was it because he said he loved him? Surely Qifrey had known that already.
He finds the strength in him somewhere to speak. It comes out insecure and quiet. “Did I do something wrong?” Qifrey spins around, devastation on his face.
“No! No, Olly. It’s-” He shudders, bending down to brace himself. Olruggio steps forward, reaching for him, but Qifrey holds up a hand, keeping him in his place. Then quieter he adds, “I’m sorry this was a mistake.” His eyes are glued to Qifrey, as though if he were to take his eyes off of him for even a moment, he might disappear into the night.
He stands and turns to leave, clearly in a rush, so desperate to escape the confines of this room.
On a day where Olruggio was more selfless this might’ve turned out different. If he had just let Qifrey step away, leaving Olruggio standing half naked and alone in his bedroom to wonder what went wrong, maybe none of this would’ve happened. But today he had decided to be selfish and that was a damning decision. So his hand catches Qifrey’s wrist, halting his movement.
“What’s wrong?” He asks, trying to not let his hurt shine through. “Don’t just leave. What went wrong?” Qifrey shakes his head, tugging his arm trying to wrench himself free.
“Don’t-”
He hisses in pain, collapsing to the floor. Qifrey’s hands fly up to his head, cradling it, a feeble attempt to soothe whatever aches him. In a split second Olruggio is there, holding him.
“Talk to me,” he urges. “Please, I’m here for you.”
“Olly,” he cries into his hands. “I don’t want to have to do it. Not tonight.”
“What are you talking about? Do what?” He pries Qifrey’s hands away from his face and tilts his chin up.
That’s when he sees it.
A small silver branch breaking out from behind his hair. Right where his missing eye is. What the…?
“What is that?”
Qifrey doesn’t answer, his gaze averted. He bites his lip. It trembles.
Then he sighs, sudden resignation flashing across his face.
“I’m cursed, Olruggio.”
“Huh?”
“Can’t you see? I am a host of the silverwood. I just…” He looks up to meet his eye. “I just thought if I left quick enough, if I hurt you in the process, I wouldn’t have to wipe your memories again.”
“Wipe my memories?” He cries out. None of this is making sense. Has he actually been dreaming this entire time? Has this entire thing been some intricately detailed, perfectly laid out dream that has suddenly shifted into a nightmare? Where is he right now? He’ll wake up from this, right?
It takes Qifrey a total of three ticks on the clock to summarize their history. It sounds well rehearsed, it comes out perfect, succinct, and to the point. As if he has done this many times before.
Which, he supposes, based on what he’s just told him, he has.
He’s had his memories erased. Countless times. All to keep Qifrey alive. All because Olruggio, young, naive, and still so greedy he couldn’t contain it Olruggio wanted him to stay alive. All this time Olruggio had thought himself to be selfless, that he only rarely indulges in his greed, but here is Qifrey, lying before him, saying he’s acted upon it numerous times before and he’s never even known it.
“I’m sorry you’ve had to do this. I’m sorry I put you in this position,” he whispers, cradling his face. Qifrey looks at him with wide eyes. “I could never resent you for this.”
The tree sprouts then, filling his bedroom to the brim with wide, terrible branches. It launches Olruggio backward, landing flat on his back. The leaves hit the edge of his room and they rustle and fall delicately around him. He catches the branches twist and turn trying to fill the enclosed space. He watches in shock as Qifrey is suspended in the centre of it, arms and legs bound, branching off holding him hostage.
“Qifrey?” He whispers in horror. Despite knowing it and hearing Qifrey say it, it’s still unbelievable to see it staring back at him. His once empty room now encompasses a massive silverwood tree.
And Qifrey in the dead centre of it.
“I’m sorry,” Qifrey cries. “I’m sorry, I thought- I didn’t want-” His sentence is cut off by a sharp sob. Olruggio rushes forward - crawling towards him - too frantic to even think of standing and running. His hands find his face, cradling him gently.
“Hey,” he soothes, “Don’t cry, it’s okay.” He swipes a thumb across dampened cheeks.
This hasn’t been the first time he’s done this, he’s sure. Many Olruggio’s before him had held Qifrey this same exact way. He feels confident in that.
It’s comforting to some degree to know that he is still all these other versions of himself. That they have all chosen to be selfish in the face of letting Qifrey go.
And he will do it again.
Qifrey sobs. It’s so sharp and painful to hear. It’s a sound he never wanted to know. A sound that should never even exist. How is it that someone like Qifrey could be broken down so badly that these are the noises being torn out of him?
He’d kill every last one of the brimcaps for doing this to him. Oh, he would and he should. He’d leave tonight. Not return until he’s found a solution to Qifrey’s curse. Not until he’s had every head of every brimcap to ever exist on a platter for Qifrey.
He’d resort to forbidden magic just to save him, if he had to.
But he can’t. Because he needs Qifrey alive. And for Qifrey to be alive, he has to forget.
Could he leave himself a note somewhere? Does he have time for that?
He’ll have to put his faith in a future Olruggio to figure it out. To find a solution. Somehow, somewhere, Olruggio is bound to find out how to save him.
He knows he can do it. He knows it because he loves Qifrey enough, he just needs to trust himself to get the job done. All those times he thought something was going on with him. All those nights he spent up wondering what Qifrey was hiding. He was so close. He just needs direction, a little bit of guidance to set him on the right path.
He has to believe in that.
“Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay. You can erase my memories. It’s alright, I could never be mad.” Qifrey’s stifled cries echo across his room, his breath hiccuping. Olruggio’s heart crumbles, falling apart piece by piece with every shaky breath he makes.
Part of him is grateful to forget this night. He never wants to know these sounds. These are the kinds of noises that follow him into his nightmares, that he’d carry with him every waking moment, replaying quietly in the back of his mind, tormenting him.
All he’s ever wanted was for Qifrey to be alright. To be happy and have a life he would deem worth living for. And here he is, the reason for his misery.
But he’d do it. He’d forget this all a million times over if it meant keeping Qifrey alive. If it meant still having him in some way.
“Please,” he whispers. “Tell me how to do it.”
“I don’t want you to forget this,” Qifrey forces between sobs.
“It’s alright,” he reassures. Then with a dry laugh he adds, “I just can’t guarantee I won’t kiss you again in the future.” He takes a moment, a breath in, trying to calm his nerves, it’s shaky and ragged. No hiding his fear today, unfortunately. The best he can do is try and reassure Qifrey that he’d always pick this option. He’d do anything for him.
He just can’t live without him.
“Besides,” he adds. “Do you have any idea how incredible tonight was for me? If I get to experience all that again I can’t complain.” Qifrey chokes out a laugh that gets twisted into a sob. His lips quiver and Olruggio is powerless to stop it.
He peppers his face with kisses. Please, just give me a few more moments at least, he begs, I’m not quite ready to forget yet.
He kisses away the tears, kissing over the streaks that run down his cheeks. He kisses every spot on his face, once, twice, thrice, before latching onto his lips. They kiss desperately and painfully. It’s wet, salty tears and saliva. Their tongues slide across one another, as though they are saying goodbye to each other as well.
His body will ache for Qifrey’s touch and never know why. A sensation it had once known but lost. Will he have phantom memories of what his hands felt like on his body? Will it remember what it was like to be inside him, to hold him, and kiss him?
He hopes some part of him, even if it’s just the mere molecules that make up his body, remembers something from tonight.
“I love you,” Qifrey whispers against his mouth. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I love you.”
“Never apologize for that. I’d move heaven and earth for you, what’s a few memories? We’ll figure this out one day. I’ll save you, okay? I promise.” Qifrey nods, but Olruggio can tell he doesn’t believe him. “Tell me what to do.”
Qifrey guides him back to his clothes, where his hat had been discarded. Beside the hat rests Olruggio’s clothes. It takes him a split second before realizing what’s in his skirt pocket. His palm quire. He casts a glance over his shoulder to Qifrey, whose gaze is cast downward, devastated and resigned. His heart aches.
Hastily, and without Qifrey seeing, Olruggio scribbles out look into silverwood hosts - save qifrey and slips it back into his pocket.
Qifrey’s cap is resting casually amongst the clothes. He takes it back to Qifrey, dusting it off, before pulling the tab away to reveal the spell. Dark and terrifying. Qifrey walks around every day with this on him? Hidden behind his cap flap, ready for whenever it’s needed. His stomach is sick at the sight of it, bile rises in his throat that he chokes back down.
“Just on my forehead?” He asks nervously. Qifrey nods solemnly. “Okay, alright. See you in a bit, I guess. Thank you for tonight, you were perfect. Still are.” Qifrey’s lips quiver into a deep frown.
He bites his lip and holds the spell in front of his face. He closes his eyes.
I love you.
I’m going to save you.
Please just hold on a bit longer.
I’ll save you.
The world goes dark.