realized that I never shared my snz head canon list for these two on the blog so here it is! 🥺
Qifrey:
Has such breathy, long build ups. Like sometimes they go on so long that he thinks the snz will not come out, til it does and he’s no longer prepared for it :DD will fan his nose if the tickle is teasing him for too long and he’s desperate to get it out
due to the build ups, definitely talks through as much as he can. hitchy, stuttering phrases include: Asking for a pardon as long in advance as he can, apologizing profusely for interrupting whatever conversation was taking place, little gasps of “dear me,” “goodness,” “heavens” or even “oh one moment I need to sneeze” :))))
itchy, soft, vocal, and breathy snzs (think “eww” endings )
chronic stifler due to politeness, but can not for the life of him stifle allergic fits. He also fails to stifle when he becomes sick enough/thick congestion. That’s Olly & the family’s biggest sign that he’s feeling poorly
Always has a handkerchief on him. Or 10 at the ready to clean himself up or loan to his husband (who often needs one)
Allergies include dust, 1-2 mystery plants that take him out while in bloom, cats (which he refuses to kick out the strays from the atelier. They’re cute okay??). I also fully believe he’s photic & generally sensitive
His most common covers are a one handed open palm, his wrist (with a sleeve paw), a politely placed finger/knuckle under his nose, or if his hands are completely tied up he will twist away completely
sneezes with his whole body. Caves in completely, bends at the waist, tilts his head up for long build ups. Because of his habit of pitching forward during a fit, he can snz off his glasses sometimes. Olly always finds them for him and finds this particularly adorable. he needs support after a particularly long/aggressive fit. Will need a chair, a wall, or his favorite, OLLY
on an average day, I picture him being a double snz kinda guy. Never one and done. Add in allergies or a cold and the sky’s the limit lots of fits, lots of false starts. Is snzing or hitching more often than he’s not (poor thing)
can still somehow draw extremely well and accurately cast?? Despite an ill timed fit (outside work, atelier maintenance, settling a fight). It’s part of what makes him so dangerous :))) if he messes up a seal, get that man in bed now
Olruggio:
is most often completely caught off guard by his own sneezes
quick build ups, not given a lot of time to cover or prepare
does not stifle. Olly is a very logical person and finds no reason to do so if he has to sneeze, he’s going to do so properly (always glaring at Qifrey for his bad habits)
not one to talk through a fit, he lets it run its course. Only time he will is if he’s accidentally sneezed on someone, apologizing for unsightly behavior, etc
powerful and vocal sneezes. The kind that reverberate from his chest as much as his sinuses. Olly’s snz can most often be heard anywhere in the atelier, indoor or out in the garden. Do with this information what you will
usually does not have a handkerchief on him. Has to borrow one from Qifrey whether at home or out in the town. If he’s away for work he’ll often have to use whatever is around or purchase one at the market.
usually covers with his wrist, fist, or into his elbow. If his hands are busy, he’ll just accept his fate and sneeze openly
little head bobs forward. Twists away. For how powerful his sneezes are, he usually doesn’t bend as much.
occasionally will get away with one powerful single sneeze. But most often has short fits of about 3-4 depending on the cause
literally allergic to literally everything. This man has hay fever and anything else will likely also make him sneeze. Allergies give him very swollen and irritated sinuses
has to pause casting or stop drawing magic when he sneezes. Since his fits are powerful, he will mess up the seal no matter how careful he tries to be. Qifrey finds it endearing and cute
Person wearing glasses sneezing some very big sneezes, causing their glasses to fall halfway down their nose by the time they're finished. They push them back up into place which grazes the sensitive bridge of their nose, causing them to sneeze even more.
W/itch H/at A/telier snz fic where O/lly and Q/ifrey care for each other :) 1.4k
contains: m snz, illness, light mess, contagion
for those unfamiliar with the source material, these two basically watch over an atelier of 4 apprentice witches together. relationship left ambiguous on purpose, but they're totally in love. you can quote me on that.
Olruggio is under no false pretenses on how the next few weeks are going to go, so he's been quick to finish up his ongoing commissions and just as hasty with his polite refusals of new ones, citing, “A time-sensitive project that needs my attention before I accept any new commissions. I appreciate your patience and thank you for your patronage” as the reason behind his reticence.
In actuality, it's been people rather than objects that have been taking up much of his time in recent days. Their atelier had been touched by illness, a simple cold that made its way through Qifrey's apprentices before settling down in their master. The ailment hadn't been dangerous, though it had been rather severe, and Olruggio had found his hours outside of his usual commission work occupied by trips to the healers for supplies, warming and cooling spells, and a new magical object that concentrated steam in a round shape to allow their little witches to momentarily ease their congestion.
To his and Qifrey's relief, the girls had healed rather quickly, as youths are wont to do, though their atelier is still bathed in a calm quiet as their master works through achieving the same outcome and their Watchful Eye struggles through the beginnings of his own inconvenient ailment.
Olruggio rubs firm circles into Qifrey's back as the witch doubles over into a handkerchief with productive, chesty coughs. Nearby, the girls are clinking around in the kitchen, adding some final touches to a soup that they had been saving for a day like today. Qifrey wipes at his mouth with a congested sigh, sending a tiny, grateful smile Olruggio's way.
“Tetia's got the tea on,” Olruggio says, taking his hand from Qifrey's back and returning to his sketches that are spread across the floor. “That'll hopefully soothe yer throat.” It's a quiet midday in late fall, cool outside but warm inside, and they've all accepted that it'll be a subdued next couple of days.
“Here Olly,” Qifrey croaks, handing Olruggio a fresh handkerchief produced from somewhere beneath his leisure robes. He feels warmth dust his cheeks as he accepts the handkerchief, dabbing it under his leaky nose. He had dripped a little onto his sketches to make Qifrey offer up one of the precious, clean cloths, and it's equal parts embarrassing and truly that dire.
Unfortunately, the dabbing causes a tickle to radiate through the congestion in his nose, and he sniffs sharply to abate it. Screw it, he might as well blow his nose. It's not like it would be the most unsanitary thing to happen in the atelier this month. He tents the handkerchief around his nose with firm hands and blows best he can. His sinuses are simultaneously congested and drippy, which means that his nostrils are an irritated red from being wiped at and his attempt at emptying them ends with a sad, crumpled-sounding HONK.
Quick glances of sympathy come from everyone in the room, which make his cheeks heat again, but he knows better than to hide in his quarters. Without anyone to make Qifrey rest, the master would run himself ragged and make his recovery time twice what it should be. Plus, the girls couldn't be left unsupervised in the kitchen, and he has to admit that the spot on the floor by the fire that he and Qifrey had set up their spellbooks near is comfortable and warm. Much better than– and he would admit this only if threatened– spending the entire day alone. The only thing worse than being miserable is being miserable by yourself.
Qifrey didn't seem to believe that. Since their childhood, he'd always tried to endure alone, which is why Olruggio finds it as easy as breathing to drag him along when he's ill and force his friend to the inconvenience of his company. Sometimes he knew that his constant fretting frustrated Qifrey, but it was worth it for every private smile and grateful side glance.
“You're warm,” Qifrey says softly, his palm suddenly pressed to Olruggio's forehead. The hand travels to his cheek, cupping it briefly so that Qifrey can turn Olruggio's head towards him. Whatever he's looking for in Olruggio's eyes, he must find, because he gives a small, regretful smile and lets go, instead clasping Olruggio's free hand that isn't occupied with his nose and the handkerchief. “I'm sorry for passing my illness to you.”
Olruggio has time to remove the fabric from his nose and open his mouth before he's hurriedly covering both again, barrelling forward to catch his spraying sneezes. “Hn… h'ngtchh! —HRRAAHHT'chht!”
“Bless you,” Qifrey squeezes his hand.
Olruggio just shakes his head, sniffling and panting raggedly into the cloth before losing two more sneezes to it. “HNnt'chihh! ih'YISHhieew! Snft!”
“Goodness, bless you again. That sounded like it hurt.”
Blowing his nose with one hand isn't something he's well practiced in, but Qifrey's grip on his free hand is stronger than ever so he gives it a go. He can feel how much he's failed when the handkerchief isn't enough fabric to hold the mess he's made, which is simultaneously mortifying, fascinating, and disturbing. Qifrey seems to realize the problem right as he does, and lifts the handkerchief he had coughed into to assist in Olruggio's cleanup. He doesn’t let go of his hand.
“Let's just…here…” Qifrey's voice is soft and private, eyes focused as he gently wipes at the sides of Olruggio's nostrils. He's leaned in to get a closer look, his lips parted to make up for the fact that he's probably as stuffed up as Olruggio is right now and can't use his nose for basic functions like breathing. “Your kerchief is a bit obsolete, Olly, would you mind terribly moving it aside?” Qifrey looks amused as he asks, likely knowing exactly why Olruggio hasn't done so yet. He gives the man a halfhearted glare as he sniffles wetly into the handkerchief one more time in a futile attempt to snort up the majority of the mess that the kerchief can't contain, but based on the way he can feel the coolness of the air interact with his damp nose and upper lip, he hasn't really succeeded.
Luckily, Qifrey is quick with cleanup duty, pinching off Olruggio's nose with a wet sound that makes him wince, but Qifrey doesn't even blink. It's as if taking care of Olruggio is as natural as drawing spells to him. Qifrey gives a satisfied smile as he dabs at Olruggio's philithrum one last time. “There. All– oh– aADTSSCHHeUH!!” Qifrey is just quick enough to bring the handkerchief to his face. The same one that he had just used to mop Olruggio's face with.
“Bless. We make a right disgusting pair, don't we?” Olruggio remarks, making Qifrey choke on a laugh that quickly becomes a cough.
“Master Olly, is Master Qifrey okay?” Coco asks with concern, checking in on them between tea and meal preparation. Qifrey is turning a bit red from the effort of coughing, but still seems to be breathing.
Olruggio nods to her. “He'll be alright. Even better if we could have some o' that tea.”
She straightens. “Right! Right away!” and disappears again.
Qifrey's eyes are amused, sparkling in a way Olruggio hasn't seen in a few days due to his misery. “Good girls,” Qifrey remarks, voice slightly hoarser.
“I suppose we're a bit fond of ‘em,” Olruggio allows with a sniffle. He glances back at the spells littering the floor, a wave of exhaustion moving through him. His headache, which has been slowly getting worse throughout the morning, is pounding after his small sneezing fit.
“I've decided. We'll drink Tetia's tea, and then you'll have a nice nap before dinner.”
Olruggio raises an eyebrow at him. “Will I?”
Qifrey nods. “I know for a fact you didn't get much sleep last night.” Qifrey, alongside everyone else in the atelier, were probably almost as disturbed by Olruggio's nighttime misery as he was. He tries not to feel too mortified by the thought of them all hearing his miserable sneeze attacks. “So take a nap, just a quick one. It's warm and lovely, right? We'll keep your soup warm for when you wake.”
Olruggio's eyelids are already feeling heavy, and he feels hands on his shoulders that helpfully lead him horizontal. Someone– it must be Qifrey, but he can't be sure because he can't be bothered to open his eyes to check (and when had he closed them?)– wedges some pillows beneath his head, which helps him breathe slightly better, and he hums a thanks. He'll just take a quick nap before lunch, and he'll feel much better when he wakes….
pre-series qifrey and olly take a trip out to a village that needs help w some spells — qifrey starts feeling unwell before they set off, but assumes it will be a mild cold and, if anything, a safe offset against all the peaceful and fun parts of journeying off with olly… it steadily ends up worse than he’d been expecting, and the first second and third thing olly attends to once they’ve arrived is qifrey’s comfort, despite all his reluctant resistance
character who’s pleasantly surprised when their night owl partner agrees to go to bed early for once, only to find them shivering and feverish in the morning, chin tucked under the blanket
someone getting watery-eyed and sniffly as soon as they go anywhere old. Libraries, antique shops, secondhand stores. Guaranteed one sneeze after ten minutes of rummaging. Even just looking at dusty old books or cobwebbed clocks gets their nose twitching.
⛈️ for qifrey and olruggio please 🥹🥹 i’d prefer q as the sick one but either is fine <3
thank you for the prompt! <3 sorry this one took me a bit to get to. here we have thunderstorms for qifrey! (1.8k words; I already had this like halfway written as a oneshot, but it had stalled out, so thank you for the incentive to pick it up again and finish it!)
Set in the nebulous time when they've moved into the atelier together but Qifrey doesn't have apprentices yet! No manga spoilers.
--
The downpour swept upon them so quickly that Qifrey didn't have a chance to fetch his pen and draw a protective bubble. It was a typical summer storm, blowing in on a lark and pouring rain and thundering fiercely when the sky had been a perfect robin's-egg blue not but five minutes ago.
"Qifrey, give it up!" Olruggio called over the building storm as Qifrey continued to search his pockets for something, anything, that could get them out of this. "You can't cast in this!"
And he was right, for even the sturdiest ink and steadiest hand would fail when applied to waterlogged paper. Qifrey's palm quire was safely tucked into his robes, but the second he pulled it out, it would become saturated, and he would lose weeks of work.
"Just run for it!" Olruggio yelled, his voice all but drowned in a steady bass rumble of thunder. Disheartened and already sopping wet, Qifrey held onto his cap with one hand and obediently made a dash for home.
The two of them were a mess by the time they made it back to the atelier's front stoop, breathing hard, splattered with mud, and soaked to the skin. Qifrey began to wring out his robes.
"Blasted weather," he grumbled. How he hated being wet.
"Come inside, you'll catch your death standing out 'ere." Olruggio held the door open and waited until Qifrey had entered the building before he closed it tight behind him.
"Is your palm quire all right?" Qifrey asked. He began to shed his outermost layers, which were heavy with water, then began to think better of it when he started to shiver in his turtleneck. "I worry mine is a little worse for the wear after all of that."
"We can dry 'em out," Olruggio said, unlacing his boots by the front door. "Let's get a fire going."
Qifrey let Olruggio handle the fire as he went to hunt for some paper and conjuring ink. There were several spells that worked to dry clothing, which would be far easier than trying to manually wring them out. But he was cold to the bone by the time he had a spell prepared, and his hands were shaking on his pen when he ventured back into the main room where Olruggio had ignited a merry blaze in the fireplace.
"There's got to be an easier way to do this," Olruggio thought aloud as Qifrey flexed his numb fingers and made his first attempt at a water-wringing spell. Qifrey smiled. By the end of the week, Olruggio would probably have sketches for a new contraption, most likely set into a pendant or a ring, and they'd never again have to worry about the aftermath of these summer storms.
Qifrey closed the circle on the spell, and the seal gave a single, tiny puff of warm air. Damn. He eyed the signs critically; they were uneven, and the sigil was far too small.
"Here," Olruggio said, steering Qifrey to the edge of the fireplace. "You're like to catch a cold if you don't get dry."
"You already said that," Qifrey teased lightly. He moved over so Olruggio could also warm himself. "And you should do the same; you're the one who usually gets sick from being caught in the rain."
"Do not," Olruggio sniffed. "It's happened one time, maybe."
"One time too many," Qifrey replied. The fire was warm and comforting at his back, and he shuddered reflexively as the chill began to leave his body. His skin was tingling, particularly his hands and feet and the tip of his nose where he'd been the coldest. He flexed his fingers and reached into his robes to pull out his mildly soggy palm quire.
"Ah, damn." Olruggio had retrieved his own and was paging through it, looking sadly at the half-complete circles that the rain had smudged.
"We could probably spell the outside cover so it repels — hhh? R-Repels water." Qifrey gave a quick rub to his nose, which was still tingling as he began to warm up. He almost felt like he had to sneeze, which was going to make Olruggio say I told you so, even though Qifrey knew it was only a one-off. "It may not protect the pages though."
"Worth a shot." Olruggio opened the little notebook and spread its pages in front of the fire. "I'm going to get us some towels."
He left Qifrey huddled by the fire, trying to rub warmth back into his hands for long enough to try again with the water-wringing spell. Olly was right; there had to be a better way to do this.
"htt'XIEU! HPT'chh!"
Those sneezes had surprised him, giving him just enough warning to stifle the second into near-silence, but the first one had escaped in a whispery exhale of breath. His sneezes were quiet by nature, even when they snuck up on him or he chose not to stifle them, but his ears still burned as he sniffled and rubbed his nose along the side of his wrist. Thankfully Olruggio was still in the other room.
Not a moment later the other man re-entered the living room, a stack of towels in his arms. "Here," he said, and tossed a gray one into Qifrey's lap.
"Thank you, Olruggio," Qifrey said gratefully, giving another shiver. "I should be able to spell our clothes dry if you'll give me a moment."
"Take your time."
Qifrey pulled out his pen, gave his hands a final shake, and set about with his second try drawing the casting seal. His lines were a bit wobbly still, but when he closed the circle, he was buffeted by a current of warm air that quickly set about drying his clothing and hair. It was much faster than drying off with a towel, and after a few moments he was no longer shivering.
"Here." He handed the paper to Olruggio, who held it up to his robes and sighed in relief as the warm air swept around him. The glyph made his robes and hair ripple gently like he was caught in a breeze, and Qifrey bit back a smile, charmed.
"I could put this seal on a ring," Olruggio said thoughtfully. "Split it and then unite the 'alves to activate the spell, like on sylph shoes."
"I think that would be a very useful artifact." Qifrey felt his own hair, which he knew had to be all out of sorts after being sodden and then air-dried. Sure enough, it felt like it was sticking up in all directions. He got up to use the mirror in the kitchen, leaving Olly with the glyph.
He was still standing before the mirror, trying to finger-comb his hair back into some manner of obedience, when he heard Olruggio sneeze from the other room, a heavy "hr'USHHyieu!"
"Bless you!" Qifrey called out, thinking wryly that they'd both be very lucky if they got out of this without catching colds.
—
When Qifrey woke the next morning to a thick and raw-feeling throat and a sore ache in the space between his ears and his throat, he felt his spirits sink. So he hadn't been lucky at all.
He hoped Olruggio had fared better, but he didn't have high hopes. Olruggio was more delicate than he looked, and it seemed at times that he caught cold at the drop of a hat. If Qifrey was ill, or was on his way to getting ill, there was little chance that Olruggio had managed to escape it.
However, when he made his way out to the kitchen for breakfast, he was shocked to see the typically late-sleeping Olruggio already up and making tea. Even more surprising, he looked bright-eyed, cheerful, and healthy.
"Morning," he greeted Qifrey. He poured some water from the vapor bubble into the tea kettle and began sketching out a pyreball spell to heat it. "Looks like our palm quires are dryin' out okay."
"Oh, good," Qifrey meant to say, but his voice came out a hoarse whisper that snagged on his throat and made him cough. Olruggio raised an eyebrow.
"What did I tell you?"
"I'm just surprised it wasn't you," Qifrey rasped. If his throat was already this far gone, it was not a promising sign for how this cold was going to go.
Olruggio huffed a laugh. "Me too, honestly." He gestured vaguely towards the table. "Sit down and I'll 'ave tea ready in a moment."
Qifrey obeyed, settling gratefully into a chair. He'd only been up for half an hour and was already yearning to go back to bed. Thankfully today all of his tasks were around the atelier. "Are you still going out for a few days?"
A nearby village had been having trouble with a nearby stream flooding throughout the summer rains, and they'd requested Olruggio's help with fortifying the banks and protecting their crop storage. Olruggio paused, one hand on the kettle.
"I was goin' to, but if you need me to stay around…"
Qifrey shook his head and coughed into his sleeve. "No, I'm fine, thank you. I'm not feeling too poorly."
Yet, was the unsaid last piece of the phrase, and he knew that Olruggio heard it too. Olruggio shrugged.
"Suit yourself. I think we've got enough erbe tea and millflower to last you for a bit."
Qifrey smiled down at the wood grain of the table. "Thank you, my friend."
They chatted comfortably about other things while Olruggio waited for the tea to boil, then he brought a mug to Qifrey, who wrapped his hands around it like he could absorb the heat from the ceramic. He was feeling slightly chilled even though he knew it was plenty warm in the kitchen. When he took a sip, he was touched to find that Olruggio had added some honey to it when he wasn't looking.
The urge to sneeze came welling up from seemingly nowhere, and he tucked his face into the shoulder farthest away from Olruggio to try and stifle. It worked, sort of. "hkktCHIEU! KXshuu!"
"Bless."
Qifrey sniffled self-consciously as he unfolded, uncomfortably aware that his handkerchief was back in his room. "Thank you."
Olruggio was watching him a little more closely than he would have liked, particularly as his nose continued to run and he was forced to use his napkin to stem the tide. The tea, at least, soothed some of the ache in his throat and restored his voice, and he wasn't too congested yet.
"Olly, I'm okay, really," he said after he coughed and Olruggio shot him a Look over the lip of his own mug. "I'm going to go back to bed for a bit after you leave and see if I can sleep it off."
"Sounds like a good call." Olruggio got up and took his mug to the sink. "I should only be a few days."
"I can take care of myself, you know," Qifrey teased gently. "I won't perish if you're not around."
Olruggio glanced back at him over his shoulder. "I'm holdin' you to that," he said, and Qifrey smiled.
More wha snz thoughts bc im totally normal about Orufrey… 🫣 be nice im shy.
I believe Qifrey LOVES books. He will read anything and completely loses himself whether it’s a fictional story, a history book, a spell book, a cook book, etc. This man has a large collection of books that can be found in his study, chambers, olly’s room, the living room, all over the atelier. Also has some old, dusty books stored off in the garden shed that he definitely doesn’t clean properly before bringing inside to read. Do with that information what you will 😌
imagining Qifrey laying by the hearth all cozy wrapped in a blanket in the throes of an awful head cold. Completely miserable and forced to lay down and he just wants to read a book to pass the time as he rests - he doesn’t often lay down this long at one time unless very poorly. He’s terribly frustrated and mopey and pouty though because every time he gets caught in a snzing fit he drops the book, or at least fumbles with it so harshly that he loses his chapter or page. It happens frequently enough that he’s not able to get very far. A whine escapes his throat before he can restrain it. Olly takes pity on him and offers to read his book for him out loud. The low, even vibrations of his voice are so soothing that Qifrey falls asleep soon after, comfortably tucked in on the velvet daybed. The warmth from the fire, qifrey’s gentle snores, and the quiet intimacy is too peaceful and Olly falls asleep soon after, right beside Qifrey, book loosely held in one hand.
Somebody taking off their sun glasses to clean them, sneezing on the freshly cleaned lenses due to phonic reflex, cleaning the sunglasses again, repeat.
companion drawings to this fic i wrote :) of course i couldnt help myself. i had to draw him sneezing shirtless in the sun hayfevered olruggio you’ll always be famous to me
The little twitch of someone’s nose while they’re trembling, on the very edge of a sneeze - their eyes watering, hands cupped gently in front of them to catch it when it finally, blissfully comes. Their breath, stuttering in their chest, too itchy to breathe out without it shaking, hitching miserably. If only they had just a little something to push them over the edge into release-
I’m simply going feral at the thought of this prompt. You are incredible at writing!
your wish is my command! here's allergies + afternoon nap + nose kisses for mister qifrey. (no manga spoilers, which was HARD for me to do with this one, but I'm trying to avoid them in the fics I post on here)
(1.6k!)
--
Qifrey stifled a ticklish cough into his fist and curled up tighter on the couch, reminding himself for the umpteenth time that rubbing his eye would only make it worse, no matter how good it would feel.
This happened, on occasion; something would bloom out on the Downs in the summertime, a plant that he'd never been able to identify, because it was only a period of a week or two that he would suffer like this, and it wasn't even every year.
But whatever was different about this year — more rain? less rain? a mild start to the summer? random happenstance? — he was certainly feeling it. His symptoms had begun about a week ago, starting with a mild itchiness in his throat and eye and progressing over the last few days to a full-blown allergic reaction. He'd even finally caved and taken some of Olruggio's allergy tonic, but he must have waited too long, because it was barely putting a dent in his symptoms.
His only relief was in sleep, which he wasn't getting much of either, with the sinus pressure and congestion and general miserable itchiness. His eye and ears itched, even the roof of his mouth and back of his throat itched.
"I don't know how you put up with this every summer," he'd said to Olruggio this morning as they'd cleaned up from breakfast, swiping gently at the base of his tender nose with a napkin. He knew he was whining, but as long as it was just to Olruggio and not in front of the girls, he figured he could allow himself that tiny degree of self-indulgence. "The inside of my head feels like it's made of bees."
"Made of bees?" Olruggio had echoed him with the slightest degree of teasing, and Qifrey had huffed a sigh of irritation
"You know what I mean." He could feel his nose beginning to twitch in irritation, but by then his arms were immersed up to the elbows in suds and dishwater, so he turned his head away from Olruggio and tried to stifle the sneezes he could feel coming. His allergy sneezes were itchy and hard to satisfyingly stifle, always feeling like they were ready to tumble out and over each other like eager puppies.
"htt'TSIEU! ttxsHIEU! HKT'schu!"
"Bless."
Not quite yet, Qifrey wanted to say, but his breath was already shivering into the beginnings of another pair of sneezes.
"httkchuu! chhSHIEU!"
"…and again."
"Thangk you," Qifrey sniffled, then ground his nose against the fabric of his upper arm to try and tame the itch that was still prickling around the rims of his nostrils. It felt like someone was tracing them with a feather. The mental image was ticklish enough that it was all he could do to try and hold his breath to stifle a sixth and final sneeze. "HKKTshh!"
"To be fair, I don't usually get it quite as bad as you," Olruggio said.
"You do if you spend enough time outside," Qifrey reminded him, and Olruggio made a face.
"I guess."
Qifrey must have looked rough, exhausted and pink-nosed and puffy-eyed, because Olruggio stayed close as the morning went on, coming up with excuses to be in the kitchen or in the main room (wherever Qifrey was). Qifrey appreciated the quiet support, because he was certainly flagging as the day went on, and it was helpful to have another witch around for the girls to ask questions to. Still, it was hard to keep from nodding off over lunch, even when Tetia and Richeh began to gently quarrel over whose turn it was to help Qifrey prepare dinner that evening.
"Girls," Olruggio said sharply when their quiet bickering began to spill over into something more sustained. Qifrey tried to blink himself back to wakefulness, covering a yawn with one hand, as Olruggio continued, "Why don't we go outside and give Master Qifrey some peace and quiet for the afternoon?"
Oh he definitely was looking bad, if the girls' quick acquiescence was anything to judge by. Agott returned to her room to study, as always, but the other three trailed after Olruggio like little ducklings, calling bits of kindness like "get some rest!" and "feel better soon!" back to Qifrey. It was quite touching, actually, and he made a note to thank Olruggio for his thoughtfulness later after the girls had gone to bed.
He napped as well as could be expected; the quiet in the atelier helped, and the couch was incredibly comfortable (he understood why Olruggio napped here so frequently), but he was still plagued with itchiness and congestion. When he did sleep, he dreamed fitfully, weighed down by images of deep, dark water and skeletal trees reaching towards the horizon.
But he also dreamed of Olly — which was not new, unfortunately; the other man crept into his subconscious with some frequency, particularly when he was already exhausted or otherwise ill-at-ease, and his guard was down.
Sometimes the Olly of his dreams was upset with him, or accusatory, or hurt deeply by the careful distance that Qifrey kept between them. Qifrey knew that the real-life Olruggio felt those things too, even though he was too kind and reserved to express them, so those dreams always stung. At the end of the day, Qifrey deserved his ire.
But the ones that truly cut him to the quick were the ones in which they were happy together. The ones where Qifrey let Olruggio touch him, where they could hold each other, where Olruggio could brush away the tears that Qifrey wept in the solitude of his rooms at night. Those were the ones that hurt the most when he woke, that gave him a yearning ache so deep in his core that he felt like he couldn't move for limping.
He knew that he was dreaming this time, floating in a sort of half-awake twilight, when Olruggio came to sit on the couch by his feet.
"How are you feelin'?"
Dream-Qifrey scrubbed the side of his hand briefly under his nose, squinting, and sighed. "All right, I suppose," he said. "How are the girls?"
"Fine. Workin' hard." Olruggio reached up and brushed a bit of Qifrey's hair back from his face. "You've been fussin' with your eye again."
"Have not," Qifrey protested, but he knew it was a lie, and he knew that the swelling and redness would tell on him all the same.
Olruggio frowned. "Sorry the tonic hasn't done much."
"Not your fault," Qifrey sighed, and coughed into the back of his wrist. "I'm just ready for this to be done with."
"'M sure." Olruggio leaned in, and Qifrey thought he was going to touch his hair again, or remove his glasses, but he surprised him by cupping the back of his neck in his hand and pressing the most delicate of kisses to the tip of his nose.
It tickled, and Qifrey lurched back, rubbing fiercely at his nose to try and fight back the sneezes that he could feel beginning to build. The last thing he wanted to do was to sneeze on Olruggio. "What was that for?"
"You looked like you needed t'be kissed," Olruggio said quietly, and he leaned in again.
But Qifrey had to sneeze, badly, and he held up one hand to fend Olruggio off while bending his other arm and directing the sneezes towards his elbow.
— and then he woke, and he still had to sneeze, so he repeated the motions he'd felt himself make in his dream and just managed to get his arm raised in time.
"hkk'TSIEW! ktxshuu!"
They just barely scratched the itch, and he was still stuck there, panting faintly, until the urge backed off just enough to leave him sniffly and frustrated and without relief. He groaned and flopped back against the pillows.
"And again."
It was Olruggio's voice, and it made Qifrey jump, as if the other man could see the contents of the dream that Qifrey had just been shaken from. He quickly looked away with the excuse of looking for his handkerchief.
"Thank you. How are the girls?"
"Fine. Workin' hard," Olruggio said from the door, unknowingly echoing Qifrey's dream. It made Qifrey flush, and he quickly buried his face in his handkerchief to hide it. He heard Olruggio cross the room, moving away from him towards the kitchen. "D'you need anything?"
Another flicker of memory from his dream, of Olruggio leaning in to kiss him, and Qifrey gritted his teeth against the image. "No, I'm fine, thank you." He lowered his handkerchief and palmed at his cheek, which at some point had become damp. Was his eye watering again? "And thank you for looking after the girls, I've enjoyed the extra rest."
"Course."
Ah, damn, he'd been crying, hadn't he, while he slept? How mortifying. Qifrey sniffled again and cleared his throat, trying to wrestle back composure. "Give me a moment to freshen up and I'll join you."
"No need, I'll bring the girls back inside," Olruggio said. "You'd best stay inside too until you're done with all the sneezin' and such."
He sounded so firm that Qifrey couldn't help but duck his head to hide a smile. "All right, if you insist."
Qifrey watched until after Olruggio as he left the atelier, clutching absently at his own chest as if he could hold his agonizing inner wound together with his fingers alone. But it was familiar, the deep, stabbing pain that made his teeth ache, and he swallowed back the bile like always, sealed it all away, and then began to make himself presentable again.
Ok I have a drawing request and it’s kinda stupid but it popped in my brain and I can’t draw for shit. Qifrey hugging Olruggio and either trying his hardest not to sneeze or sneezing into Olruggio’s shoulder or something
anon it’s in fact a brilliant request……..
took a creative liberty to complete the holy trifecta of hugging+crying+sneezing
