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Olruggio grips the drink glass in his hand and stares into its amber contents. He takes a sip and gives an absent scratch to the deep red fabric decorating his wrist.
“You absolutely must come back during the summer season,” he hears a voice say beside him. He looks over to see the lady of the house looking at him kindly. “You must be at least the age of my niece, and she would love to meet such a polite and wonderful man such as yourself.”
“Will your next vintage be complete at that time?” Olruggio looks at her and responds politely. He had no doubt that his patrons would ask other things of him between now and then, so he knew that he’d be back during the summer regardless.
Lady Palmier laughs with a soft, short sound. “You certainly do have an excellent taste for fine things, master witch.” Olruggio would prefer she left the ‘master’ out of it, but other things were occupying his thoughts.
The kitchen table had been a flurry of activity the entire afternoon with practicing spells related to food preparation and preservation. Qifrey had sent the girls off to bathe and change after a full day of work and was sitting at the table collecting papers and checking penmanship.
He hears the click of dress shoes behind him as Olruggio, his Watchful Eye, comes down the stairs in a sweep of robes and finery. Olruggio’s moves into the kitchen to speak with Qifrey.
“Well, I’ll be off for the night,” Olruggio says lightly.
Qifrey looks at Olruggio’s dress for a long moment. His arms are covered to the wrists in a dark red fabric with a smock pattern that smooths out as it runs up to his shoulders. Half of the cape that would have covered his torso had been slung back over one of his shoulders to show the burgundy lining that was scattered with a pattern of small gold stars. Both his undershirt and his long pants are a fitted black with a gold edge trimming each. Qifrey notices that the delicate gold embroidery is made of multiple small, flying dragons. He looks as regal as Qifrey has ever seen him.
“What are you wearing?” Qifrey asks him quietly as he looks over the ensemble.
Olruggio raises a part of the cape in his hand and turns to show the back.
“My patron commissioned it. Something about being appropriate for the ‘witch of the flame’ as he said. What do you think?” Olruggio asks.
Qifrey raises his hand, close enough to reach out and feel the fabric underneath Olruggio’s grip on the cape. Qifrey presses it lightly between his fingers.
“Incredibly handsome, Olruggio of the Torch,” Qifrey says flatteringly as he uses Olruggio’s full and correct title. He smiles softly as he looks up at Olruggio over the brim of his glasses.
Olruggio looks from Qifrey’s face towards the hand near his and-- oh, Qifrey is already turning back towards the kitchen table before Olruggio can register how exactly it sounded when Qifrey said his name and title.
“Have a pleasant night romancing your patrons!” Qifrey says teasingly. “And try not to tip the window-way steward too much if you drink.”
Olgugio lets his hand drop as he takes a step back with a click on the stone floor. “No chance of you ever coming with me to any event?” he says, disappointed. “They have wine as well.” His thumb brushes over the edge of the cape absently.
“No chance,” Qifrey says without turning. “I have enough to do here without getting hounded by nobles. Goodnight!”
Olruggio feels like the clothes he’s wearing are suddenly heavier than they should be. He quickly shuffles off to use the atelier’s window-way.
Olruggio takes another sip of his drink as he brushes a hand over the front of his deep red shirt. The fabric is heavier and warmer than his normal more comfortable attire and he can’t wait to fit it back into its miniature storage for at least another year. The patron that had it crafted for him had recently commissioned Olruggio to update the entire heating system of his estate. The witch who had been in charge of the system's upkeep had evidently reached an age of retirement in between seasons and the elder witch had suggested that Olruggio be the one to assume it, to which Olruggio agreed. It was a job that had taken multiple months and Qifrey and his students had been out many times to help with the job and to learn. It had also paid very, very well.
“Darling!” the Lady Palmier called to her husband when he came near them.
Lord Palmier was a cheerful man with a strong beard and a smart head for crafting beer. Olruggio found working with him to be both pleasant and lucrative.
“Ah, the Witch of fire!” The tips of Lord Palmier’s ears were already red from celebrating. His wife leans on his arm delicately and smiles. “Every hearth in my house continues to burn pleasantly because of your assistance. Please, allow me to refill your drink.” He raises his hand to a servant to bring them more alcohol.
Olruggio strikes as humble of a bow as he can while steadily holding his glass. “You are very kind Lord Palmier, it was a pleasure to use my talents to assist you.”
The servant comes by and Lord Palmier takes a carafe from them to refill Olruggio’s glass.
“You look absolutely smashing in that red ensemble! I do think that it suits you so. I hope that your spouse will be pleased with the figure it cuts for you.”
Olruggio coughs behind his drink. “My spouse, Lord?” he says.
Lady Palmier covers her mouth with a sleeve to stifle her laugh at her husband’s words, seeming to have a better knowledge of the situation than him.
Lord Palmier looks confusedly from Olgugio to his wife and back. “Well, yes, your spouse, and your delightful young girls that come about with him regularly. Is he back at home keeping them? You should allow me to send you a nurse for the evening next time so that he can join us!”
Olgugio’s face gets hot and he takes another large sip of his drink.
Lady Palmier lets out a proper laugh. “Dear, you can’t go on thinking that everyone who gets along so well must be married. ‘Tis a silly habit.”
Lord Palmier leans into his wife’s neck and whispers something to her that makes her swat his arm playfully. She whispers something back.
“Oh!” Lord Palmier says, surprised. “Oh my I meant no offense. I have such an eye for these things you know, not only for good dress and a good drink!” He laughs cheerfully and leans in to kiss his wife.
Olgugio has a thought about Qifrey’s eyes looking up at him from the kitchen table.
He grips the drink in his hand a little tighter at the thought of Lord Palmier words.
The rest of the night passes pleasantly with strong drinks and good company. The feeling of the fine dress heavy against Olgugio’s skin is making him squirm. He wonders what Qifrey might have been calling handsome, the clothes themselves or…
He wonders how Qifrey might find him in these clothes, too fine for someone who works with fire. Beautiful but heavy, like a pinned butterfly. He wonders how Qifrey might look in something so fine, so detailed with his high cheekbones and fair hair. Olruggio wonders what it would feel like to reach his hands out and touch the fabric and see Qifrey’s reaction. Sliding a hand around his waist--
His hands twitch at the thought. Olruggio shakes his head and looks around for a servant to bring him something other than alcohol.
It’s much later when Olruggio returns to the atelier, stable but not completely sober in a number of ways. He’s itching to get back to his rooms and disrobe, the heavy fabric of the outfit feels too close to his skin with the thought of Qifrey’s attention in the front of his mind. The window-way closes behind him and he quietly makes his way towards his room.
As he passes the kitchen he sees that the fire is still quietly going in the hearth. The atelier’s master is illuminated in front of it, fallen asleep in front of the fire’s warmth. For a moment Olruggio considers leaving him to go and take care of his own need to undress, but thinks about looking briefly at Qifrey’s sleeping face in the firelight. A quick check, then best to let these alcohol-tinged thoughts dissipate…
He walks quietly into the great room in front of the hearth and takes a moment to look at Qifrey’s sleeping form. He’s wearing his typical teaching garb but has no shoes on in the warmth of the fire. An empty glass has the remains of a deep red wine inside of it just out of reach.
Olruggio gently reaches down as if to brush the edge of Qifrey’s collarbone in the firelight but stops before his hand reaches the black fabric. Absolutely gorgeous.
Olruggio stands back up and turns to leave the greatroom when he feels a heavy grip on his robe.
“Olly?” He hears Qifrey’s voice say quietly. Qifrey blinks his good eye and runs a hand behind his glasses while still keeping a hold of Olruggio.
Olruggio’s stomach flips as he watches Qifrey stir in front of him, looking up with a sleepy and surprised expression.
“Did you fall asleep out here again?” Olruggio says to him.
“No,” Qifrey says smartly, quietly. Olruggio feels the hand tug his cape and he bends slightly over Qifrey.
“You can’t use my expensive cape to help you stand up,” Olruggio says, annoyed.
“I’m not using it to stand up,” Qifrey says as he tugs harder, causing Olruggio to topple over onto him. He catches himself with a hand on one of the mats beside Qifrey’s head with his body pressing him down in a haphazard way. The matching cap on Olruggio’s head tips off and rolls away from them.
Qifrey lets out a surprised laugh as Olruggio tries to quickly right himself.
“I’m not the only one who’s been drinking,” Olruggio says, a little unsettled.
“Let me just-- ha, sorry--” Qifrey is saying as he squirms underneath Olruggio’s weight. Frustrated, Olruggio grabs one of Qifrey’s wrists and pins it up beside his head.
“Stop moving,” Olruggio says. Qifrey looks up at him with his other hand twisted in Olruggio’s shirt. Olruggio thinks back on how Lord Palmier talked about Qifrey being his spouse.
“How much did you have?” Olruggio asks and moves his other thumb to press on the corner of Qifrey’s mouth as if trying to see the wine that passed his lips.
“Not as much as you,” Qifrey breathes out with lidded eyes.
“So, a lot,” Olruggio starts as he sits back to look at Qifrey. He still has a grip on one of Qifrey’s arms.
“You look so nice, Olly,” Qifrey says. Olruggio feels his face heat up. He thinks about how Qifrey is pressed beneath him, hips moving slightly like he’s trying to gain purchase causing friction between the heavy fold of his dress clothes.
Olruggio is so near to a breaking point with Qifrey being so close underneath him. Looking at how Qifrey looks in the firelight, the heavy robe covering every part of them but their arms and faces, he shifts to deliberately sit on Qifrey to stop his movement. Qifrey lets out a sound and looks down then back up at Olruggio.
“Well, you’ve pulled me down here, do you want me to stay?” Olruggio asks.
Qifrey’s mouth opens and he looks away. He nods slightly like he’s trying to admit to himself what the full weight of Olruggio on top of him could mean.
Olruggio’s hand grips Qifrey’s head and turns him to look forward. Qifrey looks surprised at the quick motion.
“Don’t be coy, speak. I need you to tell me, tell me to let me have you,” he says directly and quietly to him. He’s too far gone and isn’t going to bank on being misunderstood now. “I need you to give me permission.”
“I--” Qifrey starts, the situation fully and properly dawning on him. The wheels turning inside of Qifrey’s head are audible. His heart hammers in his chest. “You have my permission, Olly,” Qifrey says breathlessly.
Finally , Olruggio sits back and hauls Qifrey into a sitting position effortlessly. He twists a hand in the back of Qifrey’s hair and cranes his head back to expose his throat and the blasted black collar there. His teeth meet the skin underneath the end of Qifrey’s jaw behind his ear and he rakes them across the sensitive area. Qifrey jolts and tries to move and finds that both of his arms are held in Oruggio’s strong grip.
Olruggio’s fingers pull on the collar and the pop, pop of the layers there shift out of the way as his tongue finds more of Qifrey’s neck. Qifrey lets out a high and sharp sound and Olruggio stops and sits back. He looks around and lets go of Qifrey’s arms, visibly confusing him.
“Do you have paper around here? A wand, and, there…” Olruggio says as he reaches up to unclasp his cloak. He pulls it quickly off of his shoulders and wraps Qifrey in it tightly before sitting up. Qifrey notices that the shirt’s opening goes much lower than he originally thought.
Olruggio stands and picks up a piece of paper and the fountain pen and takes a moment to find a container of spell ink on a table. He dips the pen in the ink and deftly draws a sigil on the paper.
Qifrey starts to ask what Olruggio is doing when he turns from the table and kneels back down in front of him. Olruggio presses Qifrey back down and he lands on the heavy folds of the cloak. Olruggio smacks the paper on the ground above Qifrey’s head.
“What’s--” Qifrey starts.
“Silencing spell,” Olruggio says deeply as he’s reaching back inside the folds of his cloak to find the fabric of Qifrey’s pants.
Olgugio’s prudence pays off moments later. Qifrey’s sounds betray him while Olruggio uses one hand to try and loose the ties around Qifrey’s middle and the other to press up and into the material between Qifrey’s legs.
Qifrey’s hands twitch at the pressure as his back arches. His hands fan out and he tightly grips the heavy star emblazoned fabric.
Olruggio loosens the drawstring and pulls it down off of one of Qifrey’s hips enough to slip his hand inside and press at the wet space there. Qifrey tries to relax into the touch and bucks his hips into the pressure.
“Alright with this? If it’s too much, you have to say so, speak,” Olruggio says and Qifrey shakes his head quickly.
“Please--” Qifrey says and Olruggio pushes a finger inside of him. Olruggio moves to pull Qifrey’s pants down off of him to reveal the space between his legs. The skin there is warm and slick and Olruggio looks up at Qifrey’s face to see his glasses tilted and his breathing heavy.
He breaks eye contact to move enough to dip his head down, to brush his tongue over Qifrey above where his finger is pressed inside of him. Olruggio feels Qifrey’s leg give a strong shake as he throws his head to the side.
“Catch your breath, I’m not near enough,” Olruggio says in between Qifrey’s legs as he adds a second finger and presses deeper. Qifrey moves his legs apart and grips Olruggio’s hair tightly, he tilts his head back, unable to form any words through biting his lip.
Olruggio takes his fingers out as Qifrey lets out a huge breath while Olruggio pulls Qifrey’s hips up to completely remove the smoke gray pants. He presses the teacher’s thighs apart and leans over again to run his tongue over every area he can reach near Qifrey’s slit.
Qifrey’s sounds come out broken and clipped as he tries to catch his breath. Olruggio sits up and his hands move from Qifrey to his own dress and he unclaps the fabric holding his robes together to reach in and find his member. He moans softly as he reaches back to spread Qifrey open with his thumb as he strokes himself.
Qifrey shakily pushes himself up onto his elbows to watch Olruggio. He reaches a hand out to grip his waistband and pull his clothing down.
“Let me, ah, see,” Qifrey says.
Olruggio looks at Qifrey’s flushed face for a moment and brings himself out for Qifrey.
Olruggio’s wrist twists as he pulls on himself multiple times, his head rolls back for a moment as he shows Qifrey what effect the witch of this atelier has on his watchful eye.
“Don’t stop,” Qifrey says breathlessly and Olruggio looks down at him with blown eyes.
Olruggio puts a hand gently on Qifrey’s face as he leans over to line his member up in front of his wet slit. Qifrey bites his lip as Olruggio slips the head inside and lets out a breath.
Qifrey’s cunt offers no resistance as Olruggio slips inside of him. Olruggio arches his back as he bottoms out and feels Qifrey clamp around him wordlessly. Qifrey’s legs come up and wrap around Olruggio’s hips reflexively.
Mouth open, Olruggio looks at Qifrey’s expression and carefully puts his hands on Qifrey’s hips to draw himself out again before rocking back in. Qifrey whines as Olruggio starts to build a regular pace.
“Needy thing,” Olruggio says under his breath as Qifrey’s legs wrap around him tighter.
The fire's warmth starts to die down as Olruggio works Qifrey up until he’s scratching the cloak underneath them. The slow pace and pressure inside of his front is driving Qifrey insane. A broken sound releases itself from Qifrey’s throat as Olruggio watches him start to come apart.
“Olly-- Olruggio, torch-bearer, please--” Qifrey says brokenly as he reaches up for Olruggio. Olruggio’s pulse jumps at hearing the atelier master’s name for him.
He grabs both of Qifrey’s wrists to pull him forward and into his lap, picking up his pace as he sees Qifrey’s open mouth and pleading eyes. He reaches back to wrap them both in his cloak as he changes his angle inside of Qifrey’s tight slit. Olruggio bites his lip at the sight, closer than he’d realized.
With one hand on Qifrey’s back, Olruggio reaches a hand between them and runs his thumb over Qifrey and presses it into him as he moves. Qifrey snaps his teeth next to Olruggio’s ear as he jolts and comes apart under Olruggio’s hands. A cry comes from his throat as he digs his fingers into the fabric on Olruggio’s back. Qifrey’s hands lose their manic grip as he breathes heavily with his head resting on Olruggio’s shoulder.
“Stay with me, Qi,” Olruggio says desperately as he continues to rock into him with a harder press. Qifrey grabs onto Olruggio’s arm with a cracking sound from his throat as the overstimulation starts to chase him as the thumb is still pressed against where they meet. Qifrey tilts his head back in a wordless scream as Olruggio wraps his red-clad arm around him and rocks his hips, using him to satisfy his need. He presses his forehead into Qifrey’s neck as he feels the pressure fill up inside of his back, spilling inside of Qifrey in the over-heated space between them.
Olruggio’s arms grip Qifrey as the atelier master falls back, breathing heavily. Olruggio tries to clear his head as he feels the space between them be sweaty and start to stick.
“Qifrey?” Olruggio asks him, unwrapping his cloak and feeling Qifrey’s forehead.
In the morning Qifrey wakes up wrapped in the dark red cloak inside Olruggio’s room in the atelier. Olruggio stands above him with a mug filled with steaming coffee.
“I’m starting to think that you didn’t have as much to drink as I did,” Qifrey whines weakly.
“It’s called sobering up Qi, I’ll show you some time.” Olruggio says and smiles.