Archive of Our Own ^beta

It started as fleeting thought at first.

A kind touch.

Qifrey knows every time, every moment, he has erased Olruggio's memories. It pains him being the one to use his own two hands to take away a little part of his best friend every time he does it. He lives with the guilt and knowledge that he has defiled and violated Olruggio in ways nobody deserves. He knows better. It has been done to him over and over again. He knows the suffering that comes with forgetting.

But Olruggio chooses this each time.

And for what?

He was never meant to be saved. These hands of his were only made to hurt, to ruin the only good thing he has. Every moment he stays with him is another moment he knows Olruggio would be happier somewhere else. Somewhere without someone like Qifrey. But this promise they made to each other keeps them bonded together, even if Olruggio doesn't  remember it. Qifrey keeps himself burdened by the knowledge; lets the guilt and anxiety eat away at him, and survives.

He wishes he could use these hands of his for something good. Something kind. He has been anything but kind to Olruggio.

But he wants to pat Olruggio's back in the kitchen and let his hand linger, even if only a moment longer. He wants to hold his hand in the garden, and to envelop him in a hug when Olruggio returns to their atelier after days of traveling. Maybe a caress of his cheek after the girls have gone to bed, and it's only the two of them laid out in front of the fireplace, both a little tipsy from the wine Olruggio brought out. Or– just maybe– a kiss so long overdue that the thought of it fills Qifrey with so much guilt that he hates himself for ever thinking of it in the first place.

When Qifrey thinks of Olruggio, he thinks of sadness. Of pain. But he also thinks of kindness and warmth, and the need to be close to him. Almost just as much as the need to run away from him.

He can't be helped. He can't be saved.

They're doomed to live in this never-ending cycle that they started as children. He never should have let it happen. Everything is his own fault.

So when everything is said and done, and he lies on the ground, he whispers an apology. He doesn't want to break his promise, but there's only so much he can do.

This is for Olruggio, and for his girls. He thinks of how much easier it'll be for them if he just lets go.

In that moment, he feels nothing but relief.

He closes his eye, and lets the darkness take him.

–Δ–

He drifts into consciousness, and everything is black.

Is this what it's supposed to be like? He thinks. He doesn’t fully remember. Everything is a bit hazy– what was he doing?

He's out again.

–Δ–

The next time he wakes up, he sees nothing at all.

There's a soft bed beneath his fingertips. He can hear birds chirping to his left. There's feet shuffling somewhere to his right, perhaps behind a closed door. He blinks, but nothing comes into view.

A slight discoloration begins to take shape at the bottom of his view. Light, perhaps? He doesn't know.

What he does know, he realizes very quickly, is that he's alive. He's awake– and he can't see.

He tries to sit up, distraught at the realization, and an agonizing groan leaves his lips before he can stop it. He lifts his right hand to his face, allowing his fingers to trace the scar where his right eye had been tragically stolen from him. He then moves his fingers delicately across to the other side, where his left eye is present, but it's just as useless as he feels– as he is.

Why was he still here?

He chokes out a sob, covering his mouth in hopes of silencing it even slightly. He reaches for the blanket with his left hand, attempting to pull it up to cover his face, but is met with resistance as he tugs at it, and the sound of a familiar groan follows.

“Qifrey?”

Olruggio's voice sounds disoriented, tired. Despite the fact that he knows he probably just woke him up, it's enough that he's even there for the dam to break, and Qifrey hunches over and cries.

He can't hear anything Olruggio says to him. He cries so loudly that he's quite sure other people can hear him, but he can't bring himself to care. His throat burns, and he doesn't know the last time he drank anything, but it doesn't hold him back. The bed dips beside him and a pair of arms wrap themselves around him, and the warmth that envelopes him is unlike anything he has ever felt before.

There's no sinking feeling inside of him. Nothing bristles in his core, nothing writhing beneath his skin. No headache accompanies the touch. It feels like coming home.

Because where else would home be if not right here in Olruggio's arms?

And home is how Qifrey knows– when he reaches up to wrap his own arms around Olruggio– he knows he has finally been saved.

He's alive.

He doesn't know how long he cries for. He's exhausted by the time he finishes, leaving him sniffling into Olruggio's shoulder. His best friend doesn't seem to mind though, and Qifrey relishes in the fact that he also doesn't seem too inclined to pull away any time soon either.

“Olly,” Qifrey says, the hoarseness of his voice barely concealed by being muffled in Oruggio's shoulder. “I can't see.”

Olruggio's breath hitches above him, but he still doesn't pull away. Instead, he holds Qifrey tighter, curling in closer to rest his forehead on his shoulder.

“I'm sorry,” Olruggio mumbles after a minute, slowly beginning to pull back. “We– we knew what the outcome would be when we went through with the spell. I'm sorry–”

“It's fine.” Qifrey cuts him off quickly, pulling him back in and refusing to let Olruggio leave their shared space. He was deprived of this feeling for so long, he's afraid that letting go now would wake him up from the most delightful dream he has ever had. “I've always known what would happen. Even with the Silverwood, I would have lost my sight eventually. It's just quite…different.”

Olruggio hums in acknowledgement, seemingly content with being held in place. Some time passes by before Qifrey finally feels him pull away quickly, shocking him out of the tranquil trance he was beginning to find himself in.

“You should drink some water,” Olruggio's voice goes up an octave as he speaks, and Qifrey, despite the overflowing emotions he's feeling, has to hold back a chuckle at the panicked tone in his friend's voice. He feels Olruggio getting up from the bed, hurried footsteps making their way around to the other side. “I should get Sinocia– she should be checkin’ you over! And Beldaruit has been harassin’ me for months–”

“Months?” Qifrey stops him abruptly. “Wait– Olly, how long was I out for?”

Olruggio doesn't answer immediately. Qifrey can hear him on his right now, pouring him a cup of water with the room's vapor bubble. He feels Olruggio grab his hand, closing his fingers around the glass for him before shuffling back to the other side of the bed. He hears a chair scrape across the floor as Olruggio settles back in.

“Almost eleven months,” Olruggio finally answers. “We pulled the Silverwood out almost eleven months ago.”

Qifrey nearly drops his cup in surprise.

“I– what?”

“This isn't the first time you've woken up,” Olruggio continues. “It's the first time you've been lucid, but yeah. It's been awhile.”

Qifrey doesn't know whether to laugh or cry at his friend's nonchalance. He takes a sip of water instead.

“And the girls?” Qifrey whispers. “Eleven months– that's far too long to go without a master. What of the girls? Are they okay?”

“They're in the middle of self-studyin’ at our atelier,” Olruggio tells him. “They've been waitin’ patiently for their master to wake up. All four of ‘em.”

Qifrey feels tears welling up again, so he quickly wipes his eye. “They've gone all this time without a master? The Great Hall allowed that?”

“Well, not exactly,” Olruggio says. “They told me after a month that the girls needed to choose new ones in case– in case you didn't wake up. Those children threw a fit. They refused immediately.”

He can't imagine the pain he put the girls through. The familiar feeling of guilt begins to bubble up inside of him at the thought of his apprentices waiting for him to return to them. Of them having to make such a big life choice without him. Did they ever once believe that he wouldn't wake up? He hadn't planned to. Do they know what I did? Do they know I did it on purpose? To protect them?

“They didn't choose someone else?” His voice is so quiet, he almost wonders if Olruggio had even heard him.

“Well, also no.” Olruggio huffs a laugh. “I had to sit ‘em down– talk it out. I told ‘em they could pick any master they wanted and that we'd support ‘em. But, I told ‘em, well, I made ‘em an offer. Just until you woke up– came back home. That's it.”

Qifrey tilts his head in confusion. “An offer?”

“Yeah. I told ‘em they could stay at our atelier–” Olruggio pauses, a groan and a click of his tongue punctuate the silence. “–I told ‘em if they wanted to stay, if they'd have me, I would take the fifth test and be their master until you returned.”

Oh.

Oh.

Qifrey searches for the bedside table to put his glass down, but struggles in his endeavor. He hears the chair being pushed back, Olruggio's hurried steps once again making their way around the bed to help him. When the glass is safely out of harm's way of being dropped, Qifrey's hand immediately searches for Olruggio instead.

“You did that for them?” He asks quietly, feeling Olruggio clasp his hand and sit back down beside him on the bed.

“And you,” Olruggio answers. “And me. We're a family, right? We stick together. You're stuck with all of us, okay?”

It's everything Qifrey has ever wanted. He feels guilty just admitting it to himself.

“I don't know how you do it,” Olruggio continues with a sigh. “I really love lookin’ at the spells they come up with, but I'm even more exhausted than I was makin' contraptions for nobility. Qifrey, they rearranged the whole atelier because they knew you'd lose your sight and wanted you to have more room to move around. Do you know how many times I forget that and bump into things in the middle of the night? Agott has started puttin’ a silencin’ spell in the livin’ area before bed so they can't hear me yell!

“And don't get me started on our new Watchful Eye! She watches us like a hawk! I don't even remember her name half the time! Why can't she be like me and just go drink somewhere? Get a hobby? Doesn't she have better things to do? Qifrey, it's horrible!”

Qifrey lets go of Olruggio's hand, running his own up the other man's arm until it comes to a rest at the junction between his shoulder and neck. He pulls him in close, moving his other arm as carefully as possible in an attempt to not accidentally smack Olruggio, and embraces him fully once again.

“I've never been so happy to hear you're doing horribly, old friend.”

Olruggio's laugh is music to his ears.

“Yeah, well, if you think I have complaints, wait until the girls get here. Their substitute master is strict and never lets ‘em have any fun. I think they might be miserable.”

“I highly doubt that's true,” Qifrey says into his shoulder. “Their substitute master is known to be quite the menace in his own right. I think they're only going to have words of praise. I know because that's all I have for you right now. Thank you, Olly. I don't know what we would do without you– what I would do without you.”

It's almost strange, Qifrey thinks, being so honest. Words he has always wanted to say are now a possibility; the joy and happiness he feels is real. Olruggio is here in his arms. The girls are waiting for him at their home. He has a real future with the people he loves more than anything else in this world. Even though there's anxiety bubbling beneath the surface– an old familiar feeling trying to put his walls back up as he feels himself growing too comfortable, he can't bring himself to stop hoping.

“Is this how it's goin’ to be now?” Olruggio asks. “Are you goin’ to be a sap? You're not even goin’ to turn into a tree anymore and it's drippin’ outta you.”

Qifrey can't hold back his laugh. He doesn't think he has ever laughed like this in his life. It's so new and surreal that his cheeks begin to hurt from what they would probably consider to be overuse.

Olruggio is right– he isn't going to grow roots. Now, at this very moment, he's only Qifrey. He's not a Silverwood host; he's not a curse. He's a witch. He's home.

“You should let go then.” Qifrey feels Olruggio's grip tighten around him. “It would be a shame if my sap got all over you, right?”

“...shut up.” Olruggio makes no attempt to let go, and the peacefulness of the moment brings out the vulnerability Qifrey has never been able to put into words. He takes a deep breath.

“You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this,” Qifrey finally says. “Olly, you really have no idea how long I've wanted to hold you like this.”

It must not come as a surprise to Olruggio, who only hums in response. His hand comes up to the back of Qifrey's head, and he begins slowly carding his fingers through his hair.

“If it's anything like me, I'd say at least two decades, am I right? Or do I win in that regard?”

Qifrey pinches the back of Olruggio's neck, causing him to squeak. He tugs on a lock of Qifrey's hair in response.

“Did you know that the first time you hugged me at the Great Hall, it was the first time I truly felt the Silverwood? After you saved me from drowning?”

It seemed like a lifetime ago. Multiple lifetimes, honestly. They've both come so far since then.

“You mean when you left me on the ground and told me you'd forget my name?” Olruggio teases. “Did it feel good to bully me?”

“It scared me, that feeling inside me,” Qifrey answers honestly. “Fortunately for me, you were persistent.”

“it wasn't so much persistence as it was coincidence. I really wanted nothin’ to do with you at first,” he says matter-of-factly. “But look at us now. Funny how it worked out, huh?”

Qifrey nods into Olruggio's shoulder. Everything they went through brought them here, to this moment. Despite the pain they both went through, here with Olruggio, Qifrey isn't sure there's a single thing he would change if it meant he couldn't have this.

“When we get you out of here,” Olruggio begins, rubbing Qifrey's back as he speaks, “when we get home, we need to talk–”

“Oh! You're awake!”

The sound of another voice in the room makes both men jump, causing Qifrey to slam his head into Olruggio's chin. He hears Olruggio grunt, followed by Sinocia's impatient huff behind him.

“Shame on you, Olruggio!” Sinocia's footsteps come closer and make their way to the opposite side of the bed. “Why didn't you come get me when he woke up? We need to check him over!”

“I had planned on it,” Olruggio tells her, and Qifrey can hear the soft sound of the other man's fingers rubbing at his goatee. “I just didn't get around to it yet!”

“You two can have your fun after I get a good look at him.” Qifrey feels a hand touch his forehead without warning, causing him to startle. Sinocia whispers a quick apology before removing it. “Alright Olruggio, get out of here. We've got work to do! You will not be disturbing my patient any longer!”

“Leave?” Olruggio sounds flabbergasted. “What do you mean leave? He just woke up!”

“He's a patient, and visiting hours are almost over,” Sinocia says sternly. “And you have four apprentices at home. Don't you think they should know Qifrey is awake?”

Olruggio grunts in response, but doesn't make a move to get off of the bed. In his mind, Qifrey can picture the lines between Olruggio's furrowed brows, and the downturn of his lips. He cracks a smile.

“Bring the girls by tomorrow if you would please, Olly,” He says. “I want to see them. Or, well, not see, I guess. Ah, you know what I mean.”

He feels a hand settle over the top of his own, and it fills him with warmth immediately.

He fights down the part of him screaming to shake it off.

“I'll talk to the girls tonight,” Olruggio says. “We'll be here first thing in the mornin’. Listen to Sinocia while I'm gone, alright?”

“You sound like Master Beldaruit,” Qifrey tells him, and he hears Olruggio's small, offended gasp. “Tell the girls I'm okay. I want to hear all about their studies when they get here.”

It takes every ounce of restraint in Qifrey’s body to not reach back out to Olruggio when he feels him pull away. But just as quickly as his hand had disappeared, he feels a soft touch on his cheek just underneath where his right eye would’ve been. He leans slightly into it, only a small part of him bothering to remember that Sinocia is still in the room with them.

“I’ll let ‘em know. Get some rest tonight, Qifrey.”

“You too, take care,” Qifrey tells him. He hears Sinocia walking the other man to the door, promising him that yes, she'll let him know if anything changes, and yes, nobody is going to let Qifrey out of their sight. He smiles at his friend's worrying.

He hears the door close, followed by a sigh from Sinocia.

“Alright,” she begins to say. “Now that that problem is solved, let's check you out, shall we?”

–Δ–

Qifrey doesn't sleep that night. Afterall, all he has done for the last eleven months is sleep, hasn't he?

He misses Olruggio. He misses Agott and Tetia, and Richeh and Coco. He misses their atelier. He even misses Brushbuddy.

He's alone in his room at the Medical Spire. Unfortunately, this gives him too much time to think. It's finally starting to hit him that he can't see.

What is he supposed to say to the girls when they visit him? Everybody already knew he was going to lose his sight– it wasn't a secret like it used to be. Olruggio said the girls were already prepared to welcome him home with a completely rearranged atelier just to make life easier for him.

Is he even able to go back to their atelier?

He knows that, logically, he can't continue being their master. He can't see their seals or watch their spells come to life. He can't tell them what's wrong or right with them if he can't look at them. He doesn't even know if he can draw his own seals with his eyesight gone. Will he be allowed to don his cap again? Will he be able to continue being a witch? They've already replaced Olruggio with a new Watchful Eye, so where does that leave him?

He wishes Olruggio was with him. It was like his best friend had chased away most of his negative thoughts when they held each other, and he longed to wrap his arms around him once again.

Instead, Qifrey wraps his arms around his knees, hugging them as tightly as possible. Olruggio was coming back with the girls– he told him that a few clock marks ago. But it would've been so much easier to believe if Qifrey knew what time it actually was.

Olruggio wasn't like Qifrey. He had never lied to him like he had done so many times to Olruggio. He would be back in the morning and Qifrey would continue to swallow the guilt down as he always has.

He reaches for the glass of water he had left on the bedside table earlier, looking for any way to distract himself. Just a sip of water, and then he'll try to get some sleep. He'll feel better in the morning.

He feels his way around the side of the bed, inching closer to where he thinks the table is. He knocks his hand against the corner of the hardwood and curses under his breath, using his fingers to slowly feel around the top of the table. When he finally makes contact with the glass, he makes an attempt to pick it up, but he misses just slightly. The glass tilts over and he hears the water spill to the floor, followed by the sound of the glass crashing down after it.

He can't even hold a glass of water. How is he supposed to be any sort of teacher to his apprentices?

When he doesn't hear footsteps outside his door, he lies down against his pillows and covers his face with his arm.

Yeah, he'll feel better in the morning.

–Δ–

“-frey? Hey, Qifrey?”

When Qifrey wakes up, he forgets where he is for a moment. He doesn't remember falling asleep, but it couldn't have been too long ago. He feels completely drained and exhausted after yesterday, but he tries his best to focus on whoever is calling him.

“Are you okay, Qifrey? There's glass all over the floor.”

Oh, it's Ermile. She must've come in to check on him.

“I knocked it over last night trying to pick it up,” Qifrey explains. “I apologize.”

“There's no need to apologize, but you could've called for us.” Ermile doesn't scold him, but he can hear the seriousness in her tone. “We're here to help you. You're lucky I'm here this morning– Sinocia would be upset that you didn't ask for help.”

“Ah, yeah, she would be, wouldn't she?”

Ermile doesn't say much after cleaning up the mess. She checks him over and offers him breakfast, which he rejects. He's too tired to think about food right now, but he accepts another glass of water.

“Visiting hours start soon,” Ermile mentions on her way out. “Your posse has been in the waiting room for half a clock mark now. If you're feeling up to it, I think I can sneak them in a little early–”

“Please,” Qifrey cuts her off embarrassingly fast. He feels his face heat up, so at least he has the audacity to feel a little bit bad about it. “I-I'd appreciate it very much.”

He hears Ermile huff a laugh from over by the door. “I'll go get them. Stay put.”

As if Qifrey could go anywhere.

It doesn't take long for him to hear the footsteps of multiple people come running down the hallway, followed by a slow down, girls! in Olruggio's rough voice. He feels his heart rate pick up, and he can't help the smile that blooms across his face as the door slams open.

“Master Qifrey!” He hears the quiver in Tetia's voice as she cries out his name, and he assumes it's her footsteps that come running up to his side first. “Oh my, Master Qifrey! We've missed you so much!”

He feels the bed dip beside him as small arms wrap around his neck, and Tetia begins to cry into his shoulder.

“There, there Tetia.” He pats her on the back lovingly, trying to keep his own tears back. It proves to be quite a feat. “I'm okay, it's so good to have you here.”

“Tetia! Move over! Give the rest of us a turn!” Qifrey hears Richeh complain before he feels another body crawling onto the bed. She slides up next to Tetia, almost planting herself in his lap as she joins her friend in the hug.

“All of you can come on up, if you want. It's okay,” Qifrey tells the other girls, chuckling as Tetia grips him tighter. “I've missed you all dearly.”

He isn't as prepared as he thought he was when he feels Coco and Agott come crashing into the three of them, forcing him down onto his back. He wiggles his left arm free and envelopes all four girls as tightly as he can, finally letting his tears go free.

“Oh my,” he manages to choke out, “you've all grown quite strong, haven't you?”

They all answer by crying harder.

When the girls eventually let go at Olruggio's insistence, they all plant themselves at the end of his bed. They begin to fuss over him, making sure he's comfortable enough, that he's not hurt in any way. He doesn't even know where to begin with how it makes him feel, knowing how prepared he was to give all of this up, but he can't stop the smile that graces his lips.

“I'm quite alright, girls,” Qifrey insists. “I want to hear about you guys. You've been working hard with Olruggio, haven't you?”

“We're all planning on taking the third test next year,” Agott tells him. “We want to attempt the Librarians' Trial.”

“Wow, you guys are growing up so fast,” Qifrey says wistfully. “Already planning on the third test. You'll all pass with flying colors, I'm certain of it.”

“We want you there with us!” Coco exclaims. “You missed our second test, so you have to promise to be there for our third!”

Ah, that's right. Qifrey had been out cold for their retake of the second test with Master Beldaruit last year. Time certainly flew by, hadn't it?

“Oh, Coco.” Qifrey's grip tightens on the sheet in front of him. “I'll absolutely be there– I wouldn't miss it for the world. When you're all ready, Olruggio can schedule it.”

“Master Olly?” Tetia asks. “Are you not going to be our master again, Master Qifrey?”

He doesn't answer immediately– he doesn't want to lie to them. He can't lie to them again after everything he has put them through. It wouldn't be fair to them, and they deserve to know the truth.

“I'm– I'm not sure,” he answers slowly, honestly. It hurts him to say it.

“Why not?” Agott asks, which surprises Qifrey more than he thinks it should have. “Master Olly was only supposed to be our master until you came back home, did something change? We made as many accommodations to the atelier that we could think of–”

“Girls, Qifrey just woke up last night.” He hears Olruggio say quickly, and Agott clicks her tongue. “We'll figure things out in the future. Together. Right now, why don't you tell him about the spells you're all workin' on?”

It seems to do the trick, as Tetia launches into details about her next big spell. Qifrey tries his best to listen to all of them talk, he really does, but with each passing clock mark he feels himself starting to doze off.

“Master Qifrey, are you alright?”

Oh, what were they saying? Who was talking to him now?

“I think it's about time we let your master get some sleep.” He thinks he hears Olruggio say. “We can come back in a couple of days.”

No, he wants to tell him. I can't go a couple of days with you anymore.

Please stay.

He feels himself being pushed back gently into his pillows. He wants to say something, anything to keep his people there with him, but he can't find his voice. He's so tired.

“Sleep well, Master Qifrey!” He hears. “We'll be back before you know it!”

And with that, he falls back asleep.

–Δ–

He feels a bit better when he finally wakes up again. He still can't get used to his lack of vision when he opens his eye, though.

He doesn't know how long he was out for. He feels horrible that he fell asleep with the girls here. They had been so excited to see him, but his body just couldn't handle it. He'll have to make it up to them the next time.

“Good morning, Qifrey.”

He feels his ears redden at the sound of Olruggio's voice to his left.

“Ah, good morning. What are you doing here?”

“I'm always here.” Olruggio says it like it wasn't the most valuable piece of information in the world to Qifrey. “You've been asleep for three days. Sorry, I should've known it would have been a lot to have the girls here so soon.”

“No–no. I wanted them here.” Qifrey reassures him. “I was so happy they came. Thank you for bringing them.”

He fists his sheets as he speaks, trying desperately to not reach out to his friend. He was so close. These hands of his have hurt him so badly in the past. Even now, he thinks, there's a limit to how much he should want.

He had been so close to feeling comfortable the other day.

“Qifrey,” Oruggio's voice is soft as he speaks. “If you need somethin’– if you want somethin’– all you need to do is ask.”

But with permission, he thinks he's okay to take the risk. He barely even recognizes his own voice when he says, “hold me?”

Olruggio obviously didn't need to be asked twice.

Qifrey doesn't know if he's ever going to get used to this feeling. He thinks he should feel guilty about how much he needs this– the way Olruggio holds him gently, without question. He said he has waited just as long as Qifrey has to be able to do this, so did he feel the same exact warmth flowing through him too?

Qifrey squeaks when Olruggio, still wrapped around him, pushes him back and turns them over so Qifrey is draped over his left side. His hand gently guides Qifrey's head to his chest and sighs contently when Qifrey lays his arm across his stomach.

“That chair has been killin’ my back,” he says into Qifrey's hair. “I'm too old for that now. This is way better.”

“Hm, I think I might be in agreement.”

They lie there in silence, and Qifrey thinks he could stay here forever. He listens to Olruggio breathing above him, and his heartbeat just below his ear, content to fall asleep just like this. It's everything he has ever wanted.

He just hopes Olruggio agrees.

“I wish I could see you,” Qifrey whispers eventually. He hears Olruggio's breath hitch, but he continues, “I haven't seen you in almost a year. I don't know what you look like now.”

“Old.” Qifrey pinches his friend's stomach at the word. “Not much has changed. Maybe some more wrinkles– darker eyebags? The usual.”

“Olly,” Qifrey groans. “I'm sure you still look quite dashing. Do the ladies of the world still ask for your autograph when you travel?”

“I bring the girls everywhere with me to avoid that. They're scary when they want to be,” Olruggio tells him, and Qifrey can't help the laugh that escapes at that.

He freezes when he suddenly feels Olruggio grasp his wrist, gently removing Qifrey's hand from his stomach and bringing it up towards his face.

“You can touch, y'know.” Qifrey feels Olruggio's breath on his hand, and he wonders if his friend can feel the way his pulse jumps beneath his fingertips.

“Ah, but–” My hands. Qifrey wants to tell him no. These hands have only ever hurt you.

“You might not be able to see, but you can feel, Qifrey,” Olruggio tells him, cradling his hand against his cheek. “You're okay.”

So Qifrey feels.

Olruggio lets go of his hand, turning his face towards him, and allows him to do the work. Qifrey doesn't want to hurt him, doesn't want to scare him off and make him regret letting him get so close. He scoots farther up the bed, placing his head on the pillow next to Olruggio's, and tries to allow himself to enjoy this gift he has been given.

He treads carefully, using only the tips of his fingers to touch. He traces a line down the side of Olruggio's jaw first, coming to a stop at his chin. He feels his beard, the same as it has always been, before moving his fingers back up the way they came. He uses his whole hand to gently brush Olruggio's hair off of his forehead, noticing it feels a little longer than he's used to. His thumb carefully caresses the lines he finds there before using his index finger to find his eyebrow. He slowly traces it, moving down to the bridge of his nose; he can feel Olruggio's eyelids flutter closed as his hand passes over, and he can't help but smile at the feeling.

He brings his fingertips back across his cheek and cups it in his hand once more. “Your skin is quite smooth, Olly,” He muses quietly, and Olruggio chuckles.

“Now that I'm around all the time, the girls won't let me skip out on takin’ care of my skin. You can thank ‘em the next time they're here.”

Qifrey hums in response, his thumb caressing Olruggio's cheek thoughtfully. He pauses for a moment, feeling his own cheeks heat up, and goes to move his hand away when Olruggio speaks up, “you can do whatever you want, Qifrey. You're fine.”

He's not fine. He's anything but fine right now. He's so overwhelmed that he's not sure he can convey it properly to Olruggio without sounding like a fool.

“I don't want to hurt you,” he whispers. “All I've ever done is hurt you.”

“You've never hurt me, not once,” Olruggio says with such certainty that Qifrey could cry.

“You don't know that,” he insists. He doesn't want to argue, and he doesn't want to burden Olruggio with the knowledge of the things he has done– the ways he has violated his best friend without his knowledge.

“I do know.” Olruggio stands his ground. “I know you. You would never hurt me.”

“But I have!” Qifrey sits up quickly, thankful he isn't able to see the look on his friend's face. “I've hurt you over and over and over again! I've done horrible things to you and you– you…you just don't remember any of it.”

Olruggio doesn't say anything. Qifrey hears him begin to sit up, so he tries to turn towards the edge of the bed, attempting to put space in between them. He flinches slightly when he feels Olruggio grab his arm and pulls him back towards him– he goes easily, despite his conflicting feelings, and leans into the hand that touches his cheek.

“Qifrey,” Olruggio begins slowly, “I know very well that anythin’ you've ever done…it wouldn't have been without a good reason. You would never do somethin’ that wasn't necessary to protect the people around you. I know you. Protectin’ people– includin’ yourself– you're not goin' to hurt me like that. And all of this stuff you said you were doin’ to me, I'm assumin’ I'm the one who pushed you to do it, aren't I?”

Qifrey likes to think he's pretty well practiced in hiding his emotions after all these years, but Olruggio has always been quite good at getting what he wants out of him. It's why he has always had to hurt Olruggio in the way he has– why Olruggio has always taken the fall for him.

“Aha,” Olruggio makes a triumphant noise when Qifrey doesn't answer him. He thinks the look on his face probably answered his best friend's question anyway. “See? I'm so good, aren't I?”

Qifrey wishes he had it in him to laugh. Why is Olruggio being so carefree about all of this?

“The best,” he finally manages to croak out. “You've always been the kindest, best person I know, Olly.”

He hears a relieved sigh come from his friend, and his thumb brushes across Qifrey's cheek gently. He lifts his own hand to Olruggio's and brings it down in between them, interlacing their fingers together.

“Hey, next time, talk to me, okay?” Olruggio squeezes his hand. “I get it, you went through a lot; there were things I couldn't know…but that's over now. We can talk about it all you want. We have the rest of our lives together, y'know? Us and the girls. Until they graduate, at least, and then we'll just have to beg ‘em to come visit us every once in a while.”

Qifrey chokes out a wet laugh. “My, old friend, they truly have you wrapped around their fingers now, don't they?”

He hears a sigh, and suddenly Olruggio is lifting his hand, and he feels the other man's breath ghost over it as he speaks.

“Qifrey, I've been about five seconds from kissin’ you ever since you woke up. If you keep callin' me your old friend, I think I'm goin' to lose it.”

Qifrey can hear his blood rushing in his ears as he feels Olruggio's lips brush against his knuckles. This is what he has been dreaming about since he was twelve, but nothing could've prepared him to hear it from Olruggio himself. He had himself fully convinced it would stay a dream. This wasn't something he was supposed to be able to want, let alone have.

He lets out a shaky breath, trying to steady his hand in Olruggio's grip. “So, what are you waiting for then, old frie–”

His hand is dropped in between them, and he's suddenly pulled forward by two hands on his cheeks into Olruggio, who kisses him like he has been waiting for permission his entire life.

It's an entirely new feeling, kissing Olruggio. The wave of happiness that rushes over him clashes with a bout of anxiety, the one that tells him he's going to need to ruin this if he wants to live. He pushes that feeling down as far as he can– he doesn't need it anymore. He's allowed to have this now, he tries to remind himself.

Qifrey reaches up and rests his hands on Olruggio's arms, too afraid to reach anywhere else. Is he supposed to close his eye? He can't see anyway. But if Olruggio is looking at him–

“You're thinking too much,” Olruggio says against his lips. “It's just me.”

Qifrey closes the distance and kisses him again.

It's so easy to get lost in kissing Olruggio, he finds. It's soft, but deliberate, and he tries his best to make known everything he's feeling in that moment. He feels too much and not enough all at once. It's intoxicating, and he pushes himself closer and tilts his head slightly for a better angle.

When he feels Olruggio's beard brush against his chin, he can't help but laugh into the kiss, causing the other man to pull back slightly.

“Do I need to shave?” He questions, resting his forehead against Qifrey's.

“Absolutely not. Don't even think about it.”

There's a beat of silence. Qifrey breathes in deeply, willing the anxiety down once more. He's okay. He can do this.

“We'll take it one day at a time, okay?” Olruggio says, almost as if he can read Qifrey's mind. “The two of us, together. We'll work through everythin’. Like I said, we've got the rest of our lives together, right? You and me.”

Qifrey quite likes the sound of that.

“Okay,” he whispers. He leans forward one more time, leaving a gentle peck on Olruggio's lips. “Where do we start?”