Work Text:
Qifrey’s love for magic was often quiet, tempered even, but his skill shone irrepressibly whenever he was tasked with a new problem to solve, some novelty of life, and this happened more than you’d expect throughout his humble daily routines. Olruggio saw it in spades whenever Qifrey was teaching, because navigating the learning styles and temperaments and moods of these bright kids of theirs was always something to figure out, every moment of it. Qifrey’s magic also thrived in the kitchen, particularly when trying out a new recipe or ingredient. Really, the girls probably didn’t need so much variety (Olruggio sure didn’t), but Qifrey wouldn’t give up on his private fun.
By the same principle, it was only a matter of time before this secret love for invention snuck its way into Olruggio’s bedroom.
Olruggio’s wrists were tied to the headboard of his bed right now, by the way.
He and Qifrey had already been–-shall we say–-occupied, and Olruggio had fully expected this to turn into a quickie at first. Even now he was still wearing his shirt, and the cords tying his wrists up over his head were just the same ones he used for tying down his sleeves during work. Lazy, in other words. But then in the middle of some heavy petting, Qifrey had gotten that little gleam in his eye, and before he even opened his mouth Olruggio already knew exactly what he was going to say.
Olly… Breathy, mischievous. Can I try something?
That always meant something much longer than a quickie, and although Olruggio had a deadline he was supposed to be focusing on, who was he to say no?
Qifrey was currently smiling infuriatingly at him, sitting cross-legged at the foot of the bed just far enough to be unreachable, unless Olruggio wanted to kick him (we’ll see). He’d stripped out of his outer robes, just down to his black turtleneck with its dumb straps at the thighs and his leggings. He was wearing his glasses so he could draw in a notebook perched in his lap. His lips were still a bit swollen and red from Olruggio kissing him senseless only moments ago.
Olruggio was naked from the waist down, his shirt hiked up over an annoyingly-softening belly and his knobby knees pulled up a bit, but that didn’t really help that fact that he was… on display. His legs and groin were hairy, and in his opinion not much to look at. He would feel absolutely mortified if this was with anyone else. But, as always, things were just different with Qifrey, because it was Qifrey.
That little smile was still annoying as shit though.
“M getting cold,” Olruggio muttered, which was a lie. If anything, he was hot and bothered still from a whole lot of making out and a whole lot less fucking. His knees knocked together a little as he shifted on the bed, cords digging into the heel of his hand. His back was starting to twinge. But also desire was still tingling between his legs, he was already wet, and that was incredibly unfair when Qifrey was just sitting there, still mostly clothed, scribbling away at a spell without even giving a hint about whatever impish things were going on in that brain of his.
“Mmmm…” said Qifrey, in that pretending-to-take-your-bitching-into-consideration kind of way. He was still smiling, bastard. “Almost finished.”
Something else driving Olruggio a little insane was that Qifrey had chosen to steal one of Olruggio’s gloves for, again, some mysterious reason. It was a deep brown, almost black leather, one of the gloves Olruggio used for fire protection, and Qifrey had casually slipped it over his right hand, the same hand he was now drawing with, holding his pen steady. The tight, sleek material was almost like an extension of Qifrey’s sleeve, disguising those long, clever fingers of his… Olruggio was a problem-solver too, you see, and he was going through so many possible explanations for this seemingly random detail. His head felt like it was about to start coughing out exhaust fumes with how hard it was trying to figure it out. And then, finally, Qifrey completed the circle around his spell.
A pillar of water rose from the page, Olruggio staring down his own chest and between his legs to watch it. Reflexively, his feet hitched a bit away from it, but it was just water, same as any of Qifrey’s usual sculptures except this one wasn’t morphing itself into anything particularly recognizable. Instead it stayed as just a long stem of shimmering blue, stretching toward the ceiling and swaying slightly.
Olruggio was watching like a hawk because a greedy part of him wanted to catch Qifrey at his game before it was fully revealed. For this reason, he noticed that Qifrey’s pen hadn’t left the page. The nib was still pressed to paper, even though it was itself encased in water. The water licked the gloved fingers of Qifrey’s hand as well. This was surely some clue to whatever he was up to.
Qifrey’s smile was downright giddy now. “Have I talked to you about this sculpting technique before?” he asked, oh-so innocently. “I can’t remember. We so rarely have time to share our new magic ideas these days…”
“What technique is that?” Olruggio drawled, playing along with great mistrust.
Qifrey’s gloved hand tilted, his pen drawing a long line, and the tentacle of water turned toward Olruggio rather than the ceiling, stretching across the space between them. Olruggio jumped as its tip gently, playfully, touched his knee.
“Cold!” he yelped.
“Sorry,” said Qifrey. He drew something more, and just like that, the water warmed, as if adjusting to the temperature of Olruggio’s own body.
It wasn’t quite water, either… It was solider. Fluid but… with heft.
Olruggio was starting to put two and two together here.
“You’ve figured out a way to edit your sculptures while you’re drawing it?” he said, again playing along.
“Precisely,” said Qifrey, and Olruggio chose not to think about how much he sounded like a pleased professor just then. “It’s helpful to be able to still manipulate the water once it’s summoned… So I can actually see what I’m sculpting, you know?”
Following the direction of Qifrey’s pen, the tentacle of water stretched longer, tracing down Olruggio’s inner thigh. It left a trail of wetness across his skin.
Olruggio swallowed thickly. “I see,” he said.
“Do you?” Qifrey was fully grinning.
Olruggio shifted again, clenching the hands above his head into fists and looking away. Mostly because his face felt red as a tomato right now.
“Is this alright?” Qifrey’s voice. It wasn’t worried, but it was gentle. If it weren’t alright, of course Qifrey would stop.
But it was alright, that was the problem.
It always was. Again, because it was Qifrey.
Olruggio spread his knees in response, squeezing his eyes shut against the wave of embarrassment as his pussy opened on full display.
He didn’t look at Qifrey, couldn’t right at this moment, but he could picture him just sitting there, comfortable, watching, the gloved hand steady at the pen.
“You’re so gorgeous, Olly.”
Olruggio felt the almost-slimy weight of the water pull away from his leg, and then a thin taper of that warm wet touch suddenly trailed the lips of his pussy. A shiver went right up his spine and he couldn't help but arch a little off the bed and exhale slowly through his mouth. A tendril of water not any thicker than a finger circled him, exploratory, more the suggestion of touch than anything substantial. He felt himself clench in anticipation. Aw hell. He was already way too strung up and they hadn’t even done anything yet.
He opened his eyes and turned his head enough to meet Qifrey’s gaze. He seemed calm, because he was a master at hiding himself, but the flush rising above his braided collar and high up his cheeks gave him away. His gloved hand moved just a tiny bit, and the tendril of water pressed flush against the folds of Olruggio’s pussy and slid up to nudge his clit.
“Ah…” Olruggio huffed and let his head fall back between his raised arms. There was a pillow set there, because of course Qifrey was thoughtful even when he was being evil. “Qifrey…”
“So gorgeous,” Qifrey repeated.
The tendril curled along the side of Olruggio’s clit, dragging up the swollen bundle, and it sent pleasure and want rippling deep though him, so that a twitch spasmed up his inner thigh and made his knee shake.
“Oh fuck… Qifrey, please…”
It was rubbing him, encircling him… And then it swallowed him. The water swelled and sucked him inside, and then he was just encased in so good, so good, so good, wet suction setting his nerves on fire.
“Hah! Ah!” His hips arched off the bed because it was too good too fast. He was incredibly close to coming just in seconds, the water squeezing him, undulating, a wet weight still laying almost lazily across his pussy as the tip sucked his clit. It was too good to be real. He was torn between the sharp surges of almost-anguishing pleasure and the intense need it created in him, the wanting to be filled up and fucked proper. “Qifrey…! Oh fuck…” It was ramping higher and higher, and then right when Olruggio was close to the crest of it all, arched off the bed and shaking, it all stopped. The water retreated, and Olruggio fell back on his ass on the bed again, huffing and blinking up at the ceiling in a daze. His clit was throbbing at the absence, as if begging for that orgasm that didn’t quite happen, and his insides clenched almost rhythmically, pleasure still pulsing through him.
“So that design is good then?” said Qifrey innocently.
“Fuck you,” said Olruggio, appreciative.
Qifrey laughed. And aw hell, Olruggio loved that noise, it was too rare sometimes, but also he’d really like to cum soon. He was breathing heavily, and again looked down between his legs to meet Qifrey’s gaze. Qifrey’s face was absurdly fond.
The restraints were becoming annoying because Olruggio would really like to rub himself to finish right now. He sort of… bobbed his hips a little.
“Qifrey… Come on,” he said.
“Well, hold on now,” said Qifrey. “There are a few other designs I wanted to try first.”
“Oh fuck me,” Olruggio complained, and Qifrey grinned.
“In due time.” His hand did a sort of twirl and the swaying tendril of water thickened from a taper at the end to a dull knob. It started to approach Olruggio again and he swallowed, choosing not to look away this time.
“You’re a pervert, Qifrey,” Olruggio told him, but then again, here he was watching this thing press itself to his pussy, so perhaps he wasn’t free of that accusation either.
“Do you like it?” Qifrey asked, and it was such a ridiculous question, and Qifrey knew it was such a ridiculous question, that Olruggio let out a jumpy laugh.
Then the blunt tip of that tentacle pressed firm between the folds of his pussy, and oh, with the leftover need and pleasure still alive in his clit, his whole stomach tightened at that. It didn’t press inside him, just sat there, a heavy weight against his hole, perched just under his overly sensitive clit. It moved just slightly there, or at least it took him a moment to realize it was not moving actually, it was growing. The bulb was thickening against him, becoming harder and wider, and he groaned at the very thought. If this was going inside of him… It was going to be a tight fit. But he was so wet and horny that that sounded like a great idea, frankly. Give me too much. Wreck me.
He let his head lol against his shoulder. It was the only way he could keep it raised just enough to watch Qifrey. He still wanted to catch him… To at least see the thinly veiled hunger in that blue eye break.
“Are you going to fuck me with that?” Olruggio asked him, and he was being mischievous himself now. Two could play at that game.
Qifrey’s lips curled, his smile lopsided.
“I thought about it,” he admitted. There was a slight hoarseness to his voice. Good.
Olruggio rocked his hips against the water’s bulge. It ground the underside of his clit and he hissed.
“And what about you?” he asked breathlessly. “Can’t be much fun just to watch.”
He could see the hint of Qifrey’s erection in his lap, obscured partly by the notebook and partly by the straps at his thighs. Qifrey’s gaze was intense, and if Olruggio really wanted to embarrass himself perhaps he could say that Qifrey was gorgeous right now too. Always gorgeous.
“I’m having lots of fun,” said Qifrey, so softly, almost a whisper. And then with a twist of his wrist something happened. The thick bulge pressing right against Olruggio’s opening was joined by a taper like the one before encircling his clit again. It didn’t suck him this time, not enough, not good enough, but it looped around him and slowly, painfully slowly, rubbed up and down his length, like jerking him off.
“Oh fuck, oh Qifrey…” Ok, Qifrey might be gaining the upper hand again, because Olruggio’s clit was over-sensitive and spiking intense pleasure through his legs again, making his knees jerk and his feet scramble for purchase in the blanket under him. It wasn’t enough pressure, the tendril’s grip loose, its pace leisurely. Even so, Olruggio was antsy enough that he could feel the barest premonition of orgasm ebbing in his belly, so close, so possible, but he needed more to get there. Please more. Please . He felt an ache clench deep through him, the need to be filled, and his opening fluttered against the hard, thicker tentacle so tortuously close to pressing inside of him.
Qifrey just left him like that. For ages. Until Olruggio was swearing and thrusting up at air just to get those extra glimpses of stimulation.
“Qifrey, fuck… Please just fucking…!”
The straining to get just any bit closer to what he needed had left him a sweaty mess, and Qifrey’s gaze was heated and wicked, never leaving him. He didn’t even look down at the page as his pen moved.
The tendril circling around Olruggio’s clit decided to wiggle the tiniest thread of itself against the very tip of his clit and he cried out and squeezed his legs together, pulling at his restraints, his whole body rolling to try and get away now, because it was too much all of the sudden but also not the kind of good that he needed, and it was all so gloriously frustrating that his voice cracked and the sound he made was dangerously close to a sob.
“Oh please Qifrey… Please, please put it inside me, please…”
But he loved the begging, Qifrey knew it, and so the smaller tendril pulled away, leaving Olruggio’s clit swollen and abused and still thrumming twitches of too-much pleasure through him. The blunt end of the larger tentacle had been growing this whole time. It was about the size of a lemon now, too much.
Or, it would normally be too much for Olruggio.
But he was so wet and needing right now that it slid right in.
It did finally slide in, and Olruggio moaned, low and deep from the belly, the whole thick bulb continuing into a tube of equal thickness pressing inside him, the burn of almost-too-much just intoxicating at this point, making Olruggio’s head spin. It was so good he couldn't even speak for a moment, his mouth just hanging open and quavering on half-formed words but only falling open again in another helpless moan.
It just kept going, a slow inexorable push deeper inside of him. This was thicker and longer than anything he’d taken before… He caught a glance between his legs again and could see it entering him, this long, obscene appendage stretching from Qifrey’s notebook across the bed.
“Hah…” The blunt end of the water pillar reached somewhere just starting to hurt inside him and that was where it stopped, going still for a long moment, just filling him up so much. Olruggio’s chest heaved, just trying to gulp in air, and his eyelids fluttered as he glanced at Qifrey’s face again.
Qifrey looked about as wrecked as someone could when they’re just sitting on a bed.
“Gorgeous,” Qifrey mumbled, almost to himself, and began fucking Olruggio in earnest, from afar.
The tentacle of water pulled out almost completely before punching back into him, somehow hitting even deeper in the motion, and Olruggio cried out, the pace immediately fast, brutal. He could see the end of the tentacle squirming over him as it drove itself into him, deeper, harder. The sheets beneath him were just about soaked and he couldn’t tell how much of that was water and how much was just himself. He couldn’t bear it, the intensity. He squeezed his eyes shut again and cut loose, let every moan and shout and expletive erupt out of him because he couldn’t not. Thank goodness for the foresight of soundproofing. On each thrust, the tentacle punched the air right out of his lungs, drawing out a strangled “Ah! Ah!” tightening higher and higher in his throat. He thought it might even be getting larger still, thickening even while inside him, and that was so hot he could just about cry.
“Qifrey! Ah fuck! Ah! Qifrey! Ahn hah haaah hah AH!”
His long-awaited orgasm was building and building, intense and wonderful.
“Olly …!”
Oh, that sounded destroyed.
Olruggio forced his eyes open because he needed to see Qifrey in this moment, and there he was, not so put-together at all anymore. He was hunched and drawing with his left hand now. The right hand, in Olruggio’s glove, had pulled his hard cock out over the waistband of his leggings and was pumping himself in earnest.
And there the final puzzle piece slid into place, the last detail in Qifrey’s wicked little scheme made sense.
He wanted to jerk himself off wearing Olruggio’s glove.
Pervert.
“Oh Qifrey…” He wanted it to be mocking, but instead it came out much too loving, as it always did when Olruggio was particularly compromised. That seemed to do exactly the trick though, because suddenly Qifrey was abandoning his drawing and crawling on hands and knees up over Olruggio, kissing first his knobby knee and then his belly, seemingly trying to get to his face but sort of lamely landing at the bundled fabric of his shirt, weird inexpert kisses, but it made sense because Qifrey was currently too preoccupied positioning his lower half between Olruggio’s legs. The water tentacle had stilled without Qifrey’s pen to paper, buried deep inside Olruggio, and Olruggio expected dazedly for Qifrey to pull it out. But he didn’t.
Instead, mumbling frantic praises, nonsense words about how good Olruggio was, Qifrey slid his cock into the water itself. Just the thought of that was so weirdly hot that Olruggio’s eyes rolled up and he moaned again as Qifrey started moving.
The water encasing Qifrey’s cock moved with him, like an extension of him, and then Qifrey was fucking Olruggio with it for real now, his hips slapping Olruggio’s wetly. The water was still hitting him so deeply, so thick, now to Qifrey’s own rhythm.
“Oh Olly… You’re so perfect… Oh absolutely perfect…”
Qifrey collapsed on top of him, arms wrapping around him tight, mumbling those breathless compliments against the sweat-soaked fabrc of Olruggio’s shirt, and Olruggio couldn’t speak, couldn’t make any sense of the noises bubbling out of his own throat, because he was so close now and it was so good. Qifrey was rutting desperately against him, fast and sloppy and so, so deep inside him, hitting somewhere amazing that Olruggio had never even imagined was there, unbearable, and it was so good, so overwhelmingly good…
Qifrey didn’t last long at all, he was already close to cumming when he started, and his hips jerked against Olruggio, rough and haphazard, and it was deep enough to hurt but in the good way, and Olruggio’s own orgasm was just so close that he was blabbering “Please please please please please…” the words blending together in a high keen of need need need please now let me cum now finally please –
And then he came his brains out, naturally, as you’d expect. It was one of the most intense orgasms of his life, wracking through his whole body, his mouth hanging open in a silent scream, and Qifrey fucked him frantically through it, through every wave and wave of aftershock. And then finally the first sound Olruggio could make at all was a strained, desperate croak as Qifrey still fucked him hard, chasing his own orgasm, and by the time Qifrey got there, Olruggio was jerking and jumping and gasping with orgasm number two as Qifrey squeezed him tight, fists balling in the back of Olruggio’s shirt as he bottomed out in Olruggio and came inside him.
Afterwards, clean up wasn’t bad. Water wasn’t so much of a mess, really.
Qifrey lay dead and boneless at Olruggio’s side, an arm still slung across Olruggio’s chest. He’d only had the energy to untie Olruggio’s hands–-placing the tenderest little kisses to the pulse at each of Olruggio’s wrists–-before collapsing in a heap. Olruggio was himself also a heap, but on his back. For a long while he just lay there staring at the ceiling, feeling like he was slowly coming back from another dimension. If he tried to walk right now, he was pretty sure he’d collapse like jelly.
“Hey, Qifrey…” he said at last, his voice rough from, well, the yelling. “What the fuck.”
A hapless giggle-like thing rose from his side.
“Oh, you know,” Qifrey said. “I just like to… get creative sometimes.”
“You’re insane.”
I loved it. I love you.
Qifrey’s arm around him squeezed just a little–-lazy, too tired for a real hug.
They passed the hell out and Olruggio’s work went unfinished for one more night.