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Olruggio stretches from where he’d hunched over reading. He rubs each of his shoulders as best he can, but well… The years have not been kind, and there’s only so much he can do.
Fortunately, he isn’t alone.
“Having some trouble, Olly?” Qifrey asks from across the room, setting his book aside to look at him.
Olruggio sighs. His shoulders slump as he gives up trying to get comfortable again. “Just my shoulders.” A pause. “And my back. Well,” he rolls his neck, and it pops. “my whole body pretty much.”
Qifrey gives him a sympathetic look. “Sounds rough. Would you like a massage?”
“A massage?”
“It might help at least a little bit.” Qifrey shrugs, and his glasses glint in the light of the fire, a gentle smile gracing his features. “I’d be happy to if you want to try.”
Olruggio thinks about it for a minute and figures he might as well. “It can’t hurt. Not more than it already does, anyway.”
“Wonderful.” Qifrey claps his hands and stands. “Take your shirt off and lay down on your front.”
Olruggio huffs a laugh. “You can be very straightforward sometimes.” He shakes his head but follows the instructions nonetheless.
Once he’s settled, Qifrey sits across his lower back. Already the pressure from Qifrey’s body feels good. Olruggio sighs.
“Your shoulders are bothering you the most?” Qifrey asks.
Olruggio hums an affirmation.
“Alright.” Qifrey nods and sets his hands on Olruggio’s shoulder blades. “I’ll work on that first, then.” He gets to work kneading the knots out of Olruggio’s shoulders and upper back, much to his relief.
Olruggio heaves a sigh as Qifrey works. The relief he feels is almost immediate. “You’re so good at this. I swear, it could be your full-time job.”
Qifrey chuckles. “You flatter me, Olly. I just want to help you, my dear.”
“And help you do.” Olruggio feels Qifrey brush a hand over one of the scars on his back.
“They’ve healed nicely. I can barely see them with how faded they’ve become.” Qifrey comments.
“Thank goodness. I don’t need people asking after the embarrassing story.” Olruggio rolls his eyes. He’d thought it’d be alright to turn his back on a volatile spell for a moment, but it went wrong and exploded, leaving him with a smattering of burn scars and a shudder of embarrassment.
Qifrey chuckles and rubs his back comfortingly, and ruffles his hair. “Not every spell can be perfect. Even for someone as talented as you.”
Olruggio tries to wave Qifrey off from messing up his hair but isn’t quick enough. He settles for a faux annoyed sigh and brushes it back into place. “I suppose not…” He concedes. “Still a bit frustrating, though.”
Qifrey hums understandingly. “That’s alright.” Olruggio feels him lean down but doesn’t manage to ask Qifrey what he’s doing before a pair of lips are being pressed against one of the scars. It’s a little hard to feel at first, the scars don’t have great sensation, but when he realizes what Qifrey’s doing, he melts further into the couch.
“I have the sweetest husband.” Olruggio murmurs.
“I try my best.” Qifrey smiles against the skin of his back, now focusing on another one of the scars.
“And rest assured, you succeed, my love.” Olruggio smiles at Qifrey over his shoulder.
A sparkling eye meets his own pair. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”