Work Text:
“You’re sure you want to try?” Olruggio asked. Qifrey took in a hesitant breath,
“I think I can handle it. The silverwood is weakened, it shouldn’t react as violently,” He shifted where he sat on his bed.
Olruggio, across from him, gulped, and then slowly raised a hand. He placed it gently on his shoulder. They both waited for a reaction. A few moments passed and Qifrey let out the breath he’d been holding,
“No reaction. If we take it slow and carefully-“
“Qifrey, this is scary.” Olruggio interrupted. His eyes were trained on the bed below them, his hand holding him squeezing gently. His brows were creased with worry and Qifrey watched his chest rise and fall with heavy breaths, “I won’t- I can’t hurt you. This is a dangerous game,” He breathed out, his voice shaky. Qifrey’s heart broke at the clear show of fear but he steeled himself, trying to not let Olruggio’s fear break him,
“I want to try this, Olly, please. We’ve both wanted this for so long and we can finally have it,” Qifrey begged. Olruggio just frowned,
“I saw you, earlier today. When we went on that picnic with the girls. You were watching them play and experiment with their magic. You were smiling for once, a real smile, so I couldn’t take my eyes off you. I saw a leaf in your hair. It was from a silverwood tree, I’d recognize it anywhere,”
Qifrey froze. He should’ve known it was a bad idea to go out without his glasses. He was getting too comfortable with the idea that he didn’t need to hide his condition anymore, getting too comfortable with everyone knowing. He clenched his fists at his side, regretting his decision and hating even more that it was causing Olruggio so much hesitation,
“Olly, please,” He begged, leaning forward. He pressed his face into Olruggio’s chest and raised his arms so he could grip his shoulders. He squeezed and pulled Olruggio closer.
God, he was pathetic, begging like this, but he needed it, he needed it so badly. He needed to finally have Olruggio, after so many years yearning and pining, knowing it was reciprocated and never being able to give back. So long, they’ve both mutually been aware of their love and yet never acted. So long, it was a silent, open secret that they loved each other. Finally, it wasn’t a secret, and Qifrey felt desperate,
“You’ll tell me if the silverwood so much as reacts,” It was a harsh demand, but Qifrey quickly pulled his face back and nodded, eye wide,
“Of course-“
“And we stop if it does,” Olruggio interrupted. Qifrey gulped.
Was he confident the silverwood wouldn’t react? Not really. But it was bearable most days now and with how weakened it was, it was barely a threat even when it did react. But he’s already stretched Olruggio’s trust thin over their years together and his many sins.
And yet, somehow, even after the truth was revealed, the trust never wavered. If anything, Qifrey thought Olruggio only grew more trusting of him, much to his horror. How the man could still care for him and put his life into his hands was beyond him. He wouldn’t complain, as confused as he was.
Qifrey gave a hesitant nod and leaned forward again to put his face back into Olruggio’s chest,
“Let me hear you agree, Qifrey,” Olruggio raised a hand to rub up and down his back.
He melted into the touch even as his brain yelled at him to recoil and reject the comfort. He grit his teeth through the fear that began to climb beneath the calm, his instinct to pull away desperately trying to win. He took in a shaky breath,
“We’ll stop if the silverwood reacts,”
“And you’ll tell me when or if it does,”
“I will,” Qifrey nodded into Olruggio’s chest. There was a moment of hesitation and then a pair of hands cupped his cheeks and pulled his face away, tilting his face down so he met Olruggio’s gaze. A thumb brushed over his right cheek and he flinched, squeezing his eye shut and furrowing his brow,
“Was that-“
“That was me reacting,” He grit out.
His whole body and brain was screaming at him to pull back and to reject the softness. Alarm bells he’d set up in his earliest memories blared in his head, reminding him that this intimacy would be his end and comfort was something to be feared, something to pull away from. He gripped Olruggio’s shoulders tighter and clenched his teeth. He wouldn’t pull away, he refused to pull away,
“Listen, if this is too much-“
“It’s not.” He grit out, squeezed tighter. Olruggio sucked in a breath at the tight hold and he let his grip relax, “I’m sorry,” He whispered, ashamed at his own reaction and the idea he might’ve, even minorly, hurt Olruggio.
Olruggio huffed and Qifrey opened his eye, hot shame washing over his body as he glanced the fear on Olruggio’s face. It made his heart clench and a part of him that was much too prominent was thankful for how it made him feel,
“I’ve spent all these years with an aversion to comfort. I’m just unused to it. That’s all.” He faltered near the end. It was more than just an aversion, it was like his very being wanted to reject everything he wanted. He felt like he was fighting with himself, trying to take what he knew he wanted,
“If it’s too much, we don’t need-“
“I want this!” Qifrey surged forward and wrapped his arms around Olruggio, tugging him into a tight hug.
His breath quickened as anxiety filled his lungs, but he powered through it, ignoring how every little bit of himself cried to pull away. He tried to hammer it into himself, that there wasn’t any danger anymore and that he was fine, he was safe, it was okay, but that was exactly what he’d trained himself to fear and it was impossible to convince himself that no, for once, there finally was no danger and that for once, it was a good thing.
It was too much.
It felt like a year had passed in his mind, but it had probably only been a second. He shoved Olruggio back and scrambled back on the bed. He heaved, eye wide, his breath catching in his throat as he stared to Olruggio. His brows were creased in worry, mouth slightly agape and lips downturned. Qifrey watched him gulp and then carefully raise a hand towards him. Qifrey’s breath hitched at the gesture.
He tried to reach out for the hand and take it in his own. He tried to force himself to put his hand in Olruggio’s, but his body betrayed him. He felt like he was burning up, his whole body trembling and unresponsive. He was frozen in place, and every breath came up short. He wanted to place a hand to his chest, where he felt his heart pounding violently, but even that attempt didn’t work. He was paralyzed, and his vision even more blurred than usual. Across from him, Olruggio was indistinct, and yet the features of his worried face were clear enough that it stung. He was still holding his hand out.
Qifrey was causing that worry. He was causing Olruggio pain. Another breath failed him and finally his body unfroze and he collapsed on himself, folding forward. His face fell into the soft mattress and he let out a pained cry. His mind was a blur of ‘yes’ and ‘no’. He wanted so badly to hold Olruggio, to kiss him, to be even more intimate and feel him, hear him, taste him. He wanted so badly, and yet his body and mind rejected everything.
There were tears streaming down his cheeks. They’d probably formed what felt like years ago. Maybe years ago was when he first started saving up these tears and they were finally spilling over.
He opened his mouth to speak, to say what, he didn’t know, he just knew he had to fill the silence. No words came. He tried again. All he managed was a broken sob. He hugged his arms closed and curled even deeper into the bed, wiping his tears into the sheets as another sob wracked him and caused him to shudder.
He squeezed his arms tight, hoping that if he’d squeeze tight enough, maybe the pain could ground him. Of course, he didn’t have the strength to hurt himself, not like this. His body was weak and shaking, he could barely even grip his own arms. He let out a shuddering breath, and the alarm bells kept sounding. He knew Olruggio was still there. He was certain if he lifted his head, he’d see that gentle and patient gaze staring down at him and his hand still outstretched,
“Please tell me you’re okay,” Olruggio’s rough voice cut through the ringing in his ears and silenced the alarm bells, just like that,
“I’m not,” He choked out, trying to squeeze himself even tighter, “I-I’m not,” He repeated, feeling broken. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever been okay. Of course nothing had changed,
“That’s alright. Can I touch you?” Olruggio’s gentle voice, Qifrey loved it so much but it caused his whole body to shoot with white hot fear at the comfort it brought. He clenched his fists and hissed through his teeth, shaking his head into the mattress,
“No,” Was all he could manage to say,
“Can I talk to you?” Olruggio asked, and by the stars, it sounded magical, he needed it to be the only thing the filled his ears.
He needed Olruggio’s voice to block out everything else. The sounds of leafs rustling outside, the sounds of birds chirping. The sounds of the girls, downstairs, chatting amongst themselves, their voices indistinct. The shuffle of chairs against wood as they scooted around to inspect each other and their work. He could picture their smiling faces as they criticized one and other, could hear their laughter reverberating on the Atelier’s halls.
They were safe, they were happy.
It was too much.
Qifrey didn’t want to hear it.
He nodded his head against the sheets,
“We don’t need to rush. I know you want to because you want to make up for lost time, or whatever,” Olruggio began.
Qifrey tried his best to focus his senses on the pleasant sound, tried to focus on the visual in his mind of Olruggio sitting across from him,
“Please don’t rush. I can be patient,” Olruggio paused and the mattress shifted as he shuffled, “In fact, I want to be. I want us to go slow,”
His voice was so soft.
Qifrey tried to revel in it as he continued to talk, tried to let it comfort him even as he wanted to reject that feeling of safety,
“I don’t want you to push yourself. I want us to savour our time together. If you try and force yourself, it won’t be enjoyable for either of us, and we don’t want that, do we?”
Qifrey only grumbled in response.
No, Olruggio was right, he didn’t want that. But he also wanted Olruggio close. He wanted to hold him, he wanted to be held by him. He wanted to taste Olruggio, he wanted to smell him, feel him around him, take him, have him.
He needed Olruggio, he needed him so badly.
He curled further into himself and his back ached from the movement. He cursed under his breath and let his body sag, the best attempt he had at relaxing. A moment of silence overtook them and Qifrey hated that he could hear the girls downstairs. They sounded so happy. He was jealous. He wished he could be like that,
“What do you need, Qifrey? How can I help you?” Olruggio asked carefully. Qifrey heaved a breath and weakly pushed up with his arms. His arms shook as he pushed up, his chest tight.
He slowly raised his head, struggling with the motion as his head felt too heavy. He stared down at his own hands and clenched his fingers, gripping the bed sheets shakily. His whole body was trembling and his breaths were still ragged even as he felt himself finally calm. And at that realization that he was finally starting to calm, his breath hitched and he fell back forward into the bed,
“Hey!” Olruggio cried, and then there was a hand over his own. He startled and pulled back, eye widened as he shot up straight at the touch. Olruggio’s hand was so warm and it shot even more heat throughout his whole body as he realized how much he craved it and how nice it had felt and how much he feared it, how much he wanted to reject it,
“Are you alright?”
Qifrey turned his gaze to Olruggio. Oh, how it pained him to see Olruggio looking at him with such concern,
“I’m sorry,” He whispered. Though his chest still burned and his lungs felt tight, the tension seemed to have lessened, “I’m sorry, Olly, I’m sorry,” He babbled, unable to stop the words from spilling from his lips, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry-“
“No.” Olruggio interrupted,
“I’m sorry,” Qifrey muttered, needing to get the last word in. Olruggio shook his hand and again held his hand out towards him,
“No, Qifrey. You don’t apologize. None of this is something you need to apologize for. You rest, I’ll cook dinner, and I’ll bring it up to you,” At the mention of cooking dinner, Qifrey shook his head,
“I’m helping,” He sat up straight. His breathing was still laboured, but his mind was less foggy and the sounds of the girls cheering was welcome on his ears yet again,
“No you aren’t,” Olruggio slid off the bed, adjusting his skirt as he stood up. Qifrey followed, wobbling on his feet as he stood up.
He stood still for a few moments and then looked around his room, his eye landing on the bedside table. There was a vague shape of his glasses he was looking for. He reached for it and placed them on his nose and looked up back up to see Olruggio’s face, clearer, staring at him with the softest eyes he’d ever seen. His heart clenched,
“Cooking will give me a distraction to help calm down,” He reasoned. Olruggio sighed,
“Fine. You can help.” He conceded. Qifrey gave a practiced smile and Olruggio’s own gentle smile faltered. His eyes remained soft.