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When Qifrey asked if you’d like to clean up, you hadn’t thought he was being literal…until you find yourself in the small bathroom adjoining his bedroom. He leads you forward with a gentle hand on the small of your back; his touch, though grounding, is also light – if you wanted to pull away, you have no doubt he’d let you. You stand there, glancing around as he flits to and fro. Soon enough, his arms are full of towels, soaps, and…oil?
“I’m flattered, Qifrey, but lubricant? How lecherous of you,” You tease. His eye darts from you to the bottle and when he meets your gaze once more, his face is an adorable pink hue. “I– You– That’s not what this is!” He clears his throat and you laugh in delight. He always was so easy to fluster.
He places down the towels and gestures for you to step towards him. “I’m here to take care of you,” he explains. You approach and he guides you towards the stool beside the tub; once you sit down, he stands behind you and runs his hands over your shoulders, making you jump. He murmurs an apology and you try to ease your muscles – but no matter how hard you try, the stress won’t leave your shoulders.
“It’s alright,” He says softly, and his hands begin to knead into your shoulders. As lithe as they are, his hands carry a focused strength – they press deep but not overwhelmingly so, applying just enough pressure to soothe your weariness. You swallow back a groan at the sensation of the knots getting worked out of your system and Qifrey exhales with a smile. “Feeling any better yet?” He adds the slightest bit of pressure to a certain spot and you, almost imperceptibly, flex into his touch.
“How did you get so good at this?” You wonder aloud. He chuckles and tilts his head, reminiscing. “You know quite well how Olruggio works into the early hours of the morning,” he begins, “and how often I’ll discover he’s spent nearly half a day at his desk.”
“That does sound like Olruggio.”
“Indeed.” Qifrey hums. “His shoulders are always tense to his…lackluster posture.” Your lips quirk up at his careful choice of words but you let him continue. “I’ve worked the most difficult knots from that man’s shoulders, and I’ve learned a few tricks along the way.” His hands slow to a stop and his fingers fiddle with the fabric of your collar. His voice is much softer when he speaks again.
“I would like to try something, if that’s alright with you?”
His tone is unsure, and before you can interject, he adds, “I believe it may prove beneficial, but only if you’re comfortable with it.” After a moment or two, you nod and he pinches the fabric of your shirt between his fingers. “I’d like to use a calming blend on your skin, but to do so, I need you to take off your shirt for me.”
You nearly whirl around to cast a shocked glance his way, but you know he would never take advantage of your vulnerable state. Giving him a nod, you pull your shirt over your head, exposing your back to him. To his credit, he keeps his composure, but you can feel a slight tremble in his hands as he lathers his hands in the oil and begins running his hands up and down your shoulders. It’s quiet in the room, the two of you basking in the silence. Little by little, you ease more into Qifrey’s grasp.
“Comfortable?” His voice is much closer, his lips brushing your ear and his hair tickling your neck. You shudder at his proximity and he huffs a chuckle. “Easy now,” he purrs, and you can feel his lips curve into a smile. Charming bastard. His hands wander further down, tracing down either side of your spine; you arch your back ever so slightly at the sensation. His lips travel from your ear to your neck and you inhale sharply, finally noticing the fruity notes of the oil he used.
“Willowgrape?”
Your voice comes out throatier than you intended, and Qifrey presses a kiss at the junction of your neck and shoulder. “We had a bottle leftover from the last visit to the market, and you know I find the flavor irresistible,” he whispers. Fingers trail up to rub circles below your scapula and his lips leave a gentle kiss in their wake. You melt even further into his touch and let a sigh slip past your lips; he presses a final kiss to your neck and trails his hands up your arms. “Would you like to take a bath, my dear?”
“A…A bath?” Your voice stutters and he maintains your gaze, his eyes remaining on your face instead of traveling your exposed form. “I can step out, if you’d prefer–”
“No, it’s fine.”
Now it’s Qifrey’s turn to stutter as you turn towards him to grab one of the soaps at his side. Though your torso is at an angle, he still catches a glance at your bare front and his blush from earlier returns. Even with an averted gaze, he helps you step into the tub, your hand in his. Once you’re settled, he turns the stopper and it immediately fills up due to its state as a contraption. Qifrey pours the soap in and, with a quick spell from his quire, the bubbles form an opaque and bouncy layer atop the water. He transforms them into the shapes of your favorite creature and you smile at the sight.
“I can see why the girls love you so much,” you say. Qifrey’s head tilts towards yours and you continue, “You have the same joy for magic that they do, it’s…refreshing.” He immediately flaps a hand to brush off the compliment, but you hold steadfast. “I mean it; with everything with the…Brimhats–” you’re cut off by the sharp twinge in his expression and you hesitate for a brief moment. “It’s just that I know the girls – and I as well – really appreciate how much you care.”
The bathroom is quiet; a beat passes, then another, and another after that. It’s you who breaks the silence. “You’re an amazing teacher and friend, Qifrey – we’re lucky to have you in our lives.”
He looks at you with an inscrutable expression and before you can blink, he’s at the edge of the tub with a hand on the back of your neck, pulling you in with his lips hovering a breath away from your lips. “Do you have any idea what your words do to me?” He whispers, his eye darting between your eyes and your lips. “...What you do to me?”
His other hand cups your face, his thumb caressing your cheek. “My dear Y/N…” His breath shudders for the briefest of seconds. “May I kiss you?” As soon as the words leave his mouth, you close the distance between you and your lips crash together. Unlike your usual kisses, this one is more fervent, more desperate; you stifle a gasp and your hand reaches out to grab Qifrey’s shirt, yanking him towards you. The water from the bath sloshes on both of you and bubbles spill onto the floor, but neither of you can find it in you to care. Qifrey’s hands wander down further, pressing between your shoulder blades and causing you to arch into him, and his hair tickles your cheek as he delves deeper into the kiss.
“Y/N…” Qifrey groans into the kiss, moving his lips down your jaw and towards your neck, leaving searing marks in his wake. His wandering hands swoop even lower, running up your spine and your breath hitches; he kisses your collarbone and peers up at you with a heated gaze that makes your heart skip a beat.
“I fear we may have gotten a bit carried away,” he confesses, and you huff a laugh. You place a hand on his face and bring him back up to you, pressing a sweeter, firmer kiss upon his lips and hearing the content sigh leave him. He pulls back and is shocked to find himself covered in bubbles, nearly matching your soapy appearance. “A bit?” He casts you an attempt at a withering glare but it dies as soon as he sees your smug smile. You put your arms out and he walks into your reach, letting you fiddle with the robes bunched around his waist. He gently swipes a stray bubble from your forehead and asks, “Are you feeling any better?” Nodding, you nuzzle into his hand and his smile grows sweeter. “I’m glad to hear it, even though we…got a tad side-tracked.”
“Do you regret it?”
“Not one bit.”
His immediate response makes you laugh once more and he pulls away from you to collect the soaps and oil. Glancing back over his shoulder, he calls out, “I’ll return these to the cabinet then bring you some spare clothes to wear.” After a few moments, he’s true to his word and re-enters the room with a stack of clothes in hand. A warmth spreads through your chest when you realize it’s Qifrey’s clothes. He seems to come to the same realization and fights a blush. “I’ll leave you to get dressed…”
“And I’ll wait for you in the bedroom.”