Work Text:
"O'course it'll work, Qifrey."
Qifrey, still growing back his eyebrows, had his doubts but they didn't matter because Olly's hand is warm in his as the other boy pulls him onward, stumbling slightly. They swapped shoes in the hallway, too excited to wait another moment, and it slips against Qifrey's heel with every step.
"You stand there—" Olly ducks under Qifrey's arm, draws it over his own shoulders, holding both his hands now "—and I'll be here and now we just—"
By eyewitness reports, the launch was spectacular. The landing, the pair tumbling, rolling, propelled by their shoes, less so.