Work Text:
It took a moment for Qifrey to process what had transpired in their quiet Aletier. One minute, he was alone in the kitchen, and suddenly a loud crash gave way to his students shoving a very soaked and confused Olruggio through the doorway, pulling out a chair for him and promptly sitting him down.
Agott, bless her, asked for silence in her usual abrasive way, and instructed Coco to explain what happened. Amidst her explanation, Tetia and Richie ran to fetch towels for their shivering professor, which meant that Qifrey finally had enough room to get a closer look at him.
Olruggio glanced up at him through his bangs ruefully, raising a charred sleeve from his side to shoo the other two girls away.
Qifrey stooped next to the chair and brushed his hands over Olruggio’s sleeve, “Oru, what on earth happened?”
“This is why I tell people not to knock,” Olruggio muttered to himself, glancing out of the corner of his eye to see if Coco or Agott had heard him, but appeared that they were engaged in their own private argument regarding who would tend to Olruggio's wounds. Qifrey shushed them and inspected Olruggio's arm, unwrapping the blackened, soaked sleeve. Most of the burns appeared superficial. He could see tiny, charred ends of hair on his arms. Olruggio's hands and fingers, while covered in soot, appeared to be the least damaged. He breathed a sigh of relief and Olruggio flexed his fingers around his wrist, presumably to show Qifrey that he wasn't hurt too badly.
“We saw him through the window of his workshop, and it looked like his sleeves caught fire.” Coco murmured, clutching her damp hat in her hands.
"Coco wanted us to enter - without knocking - to help him," Agot explained, and rather unexpectedly, she sounded like she was upset that it hadn’t been her idea in the first place, "Coco had the idea to bring him outside into the rain to put the fire out.”
“But,” Coco added, “it wasn’t raining hard enough so I tried to create an inverted form of that umbrella spell you did so that it would focus the rain in one area.”
“Which put out the fire, but ended up soaking him to the bone,” Agott chimed in and Qifrey couldn't help the fond smile that tugged at the corner of his lips.
“Very quick thinking, all of you,” He smiled warmly as Richie and Tetia clamored back into the kitchen with what appeared to be their entire linen closet, “but since you put the flames out just in time, I can take it from here.”
The girls all immediately looked dejected, and Qifrey gently shook his head. “You all did very well, but I think we are overwhelming him. Can you give us some space?"
A pregnant pause followed, so Qifrey assured them that Olruggio was in good hands. They all nodded and filed the kitchen, leaving a mountain of hand towels on the table next to Olruggio.
“They all have good hearts, Oru,” Qifrey rolled up his sleeves and started washing his hands at the sink, “Although, I bet they are shaken up."
“I will talk to them after we're done here.”
“Good.” Qifrey produced a pair of shears from the knife block and set them on the table along with a first-aid kit.
“Now will you tell me how this happened?” Qifrey picked up the shears again and set to cutting the ruined edges of Olruggio’s sleeves away
“I was being careless, but -- Wait. Give me those.” Olruggio gestured to the shears and Qifrey handed them over, watching as Olruggio cut small holes in each shoulder before hooking two fingers inside and tugging the sleeves away.
“What are you--?” Qifrey sputtered as the seams on the first one popped, his hands flying up to stop Olruggio as he tore the last part of the sleeve away. Olruggio’s jaw was tight as he met Qifrey’s eyes and Qifrey emphatically released his grip on the other man’s hands. Qifrey resigned himself to watching the other man tear at the sleeves as though they had greatly offended him.
When both sleeves were lying in damp heaps on the kitchen floor, Olruggio handed the shears back to Qifrey with a grunt.
“Throwing a tantrum, I see.” Qifrey teased and Olruggio rolled his eyes.
Qifrey set the shears down, turning his attention back to the other man’s arms. He gingerly supported his elbow and circled the wrist of the same arm with his other hand. Olruggio winced, but didn't pull his arm away.
“We’ll see if anything starts to blister later tonight, but it’s probably smart to run these burns under cool water before we wrap them up.”
Qifrey gave his friend a gentle smile before setting his arm back down at his side. He got up and shot him a look that he hoped conveyed stay put.
After rummaging in their cupboards, he found what he was looking for and returned to Olruggio’s side with a shallow dish of water.
A bit of the water sloshed out of the bowl and Qifrey tutted before brushing his fingers through it. The small puddle followed the curve of his hand and settled in his upturned palm, which he then brought closer to the dish as though he was returning it to the container. When his hand tilted slightly to let the water flow out, the small droplets in his palm beckoned more water to flow out of the dish and into his hand. He cupped this water gently and let it create a tiny whirlpool in the center of his palm. He turned his attention back to Olruggio and held out his empty hand. The water in his palm danced from the dish, over his hand and onto Olruiggio’s forearm, where it wrapped itself around his skin, creating a translucent barrier that flowed over his arm in a never-ending sheet. Qifrey kept his hand nearby to steady it and provide a bridge for the water, which was refreshing itself periodically, returning to the bowl and depositing any debris along the edge.
“I normally use this to clean vegetables.” Qifrey broke the silence and Olruiggio snorted.
“Coming from the man who once used a garden trowel to measure grains from our pantry, I am not surprised.”
Qifrey scoffed and the water shimmered slightly at the disturbance.
“You promised you wouldn’t bring that up again.”
“I couldn’t help myself.”
“I cleaned it first, and I was desperate! The measuring cups weren’t available at the time, and I used the first thing I saw.”
“Out of the gardening toolbox…”
Qifrey shushed him and Olruggio leaned his head back smiling.
“Are you feeling receptive to some advice, Oru?”
“From you? Never.”
“Work in shorter sleeves.” Olruggio looked at him as though to say thank you, captain obvious.
“I mean it,” Qifrey focused on letting the water flow back from Olruggio’s arm and into the bowl before gesturing for him to turn on the chair, “you should just work shirtless like blacksmiths do.”
Olruggio chuckled and shook his head, “Blacksmiths don’t work shirtless.”
“They do in those books that you keep hidden from our students.” Olruggio sputtered, avoiding Qifrey’s gaze.
“You’re-- you-- how do you know about those?” He hissed, shock and slight embarrassment covering his features.
“Sometimes I think you forget that I live here, too."
Olruggio grumbled and rubbed his hand down his face. Quifrey reasoned that his gaze only lingered to make sure he didn’t miss anything while tending to his burns. The skin was flushed pink but seemed to have faded to a less angry color for the time being. He noticed the freckles and moles dotting his wrist and forearm and wondered what constellations he could map if he connected them with a paintbrush.
Or his lips.
Some of the water spilled onto their laps and they both jumped. Qifrey coughed and concentrated on the current of water flowing out of the bowl, onto his upturned palm, and across Olruggio’s skin. The other man’s shirt was still damp and Qifrey noticed a slight shiver pass through him as he watched the smooth current twist over his skin.
“Too cold?”
“Hm?” Olruggio sounded a bit further away when he looked up.
“Is the water a good temperature?”
“Yes,” the tips of Olruggio’s ears flushed, “it’s adequate.”
Qifrey smiled fondly and let the water return to the bowl before brushing his hands off on his pants.
Olruggio rolled his shoulders and examined his forearms.
“Now I feel like we got all worked up over nothing,” he mused before flexing his wrist the wrong way and wincing. Qifrey gave him a tight-lipped smile and stood up with the dish.
“It’s not a good idea to put any salves on burns right away, so we can wrap you in some loose bandages and then keep those on until tomorrow afternoon.” Olruggio grunted in accession and got up out of the chair to grab a towel for his damp hair. He rubbed it over his head aggressively and Qifrey groaned, snatching at the towel.
“You can’t stay put for five minutes, I swear,” he shook his head, "can you at least let me wrap you up before you go irritating your burns again?”
“Look who’s talking, Qifrey.” Olruggio grabbed another towel to wipe his face.
“How do you know so much about healing burns?”
Qifrey’s stomach did a small flip before he replied, “Do you need to ask?”
It's the same reason why he knows his favorite dish and how he likes his tea. It was the reason he had been so amenable to swapping the tassels on their hats. It's the reason he'd gladly trade anything to have Olruggio by his side forever. Thankfully, he didn't say any of that out loud, so Olruggio was still waiting for his explanation, staring at him from beneath damp, scraggly bangs. Qifrey immediately set to busying himself with cleaning the dish before he went and said something really stupid, or started staring at the freckles peaking out of his friend’s damp shirt.
“A certain watchful eye of mine happens to be proficient in fire magic. You can never be too careful.”
That seemed to satisfy Olruggio and he bent down to and gather what remained of his sleeves from the floor, wadding them up, and wringing the fabric out in the sink next to Qifrey.
“Even though it was my own negligence that caused me to get into this mess, I am grateful."
“You say that as though I would willingly let you get hurt because it would be penitence for your mistakes,” Qifrey scoffed and set the dish upside down on the edge of the sink.
“Witches of our caliber should be able to get themselves out of the messes they create.”
“A witch of your caliber shouldn’t be performing fire magic in the same shirt he drags through a bowl of soup if he’s not careful enough.”
“Understood,” Olruggio winked once Qifrey’s eyes met his, “I will only perform fire magic completely in the nude from here on out.”
Qifrey choked on his tongue and heard Olruggio chuckle over his subsequent coughing fit. “That would be worse!”
“You should just wear a different tunic or fire-resistant gloves.”
Olruggio nodded his head contemplatively and sat back down at the table with their first aid kit.
“You’re probably thinking of fireproof, but I don’t fault you for getting the two mixed up.”
Rolling his eyes, Qifrey joined him at the table and rummaged around in the small box for some bandages.
“You were in quite a bit of shock after you came in, but I’m happy to see you’re back to your old self.”
“Anybody would be a bit shaken up after catching fire and then being caught in a deluge shortly after.”
Qifrey smiled and started wrapping Olruggio's arms, starting with the wrists and keeping them loose as he ascended.
After a short pause, Olruggio spoke up, “Qifrey?”
The other man looked up and tried not to appear too hopeful as their eyes meet.
“You left the sink on.”
Olruggio gestured with his free hand and Qifrey darted up from his seat, cursing under his breath. Olruggio laughed heartily and Qifrey silently cursed him.
Damn Olruggio. Damn the thin shirt clinging to his skin. Damn his arms and the stupid little freckles on them. Damn him and his flirtations. Damn Qifrey for getting caught up in them.
Olruggio was still laughing when he returned to his seat, albeit slightly muffled by the back of his hand, and Qifrey had the fleeting thought that if he were to bottle this moment and keep it in their medicine cabinet, it could heal even the most profound of wounds.