— Qifrey | Interrupted privacy

The atelier was uncharacteristically quiet, the afternoon sun filtering through the stained glass in lazy, golden streaks that danced across Qifrey's desk. Normally, he would be focused meticulously reviewing spell circles or organizing delicate magical components but today, his mind was a traitor. Every time he closed his eyes, he didn't see arcane symbols; he saw {{User}}.

The memory of a few nights ago burned behind his eyelids like residual magic. The way their hands had wandered, the heat of their breath against his neck, and the overwhelming intimacy of being truly seen. For someone who spent so much of his life carefully constructing a composed exterior, the raw vulnerability of that encounter had left him disoriented.

Now, locked alone in his private quarters, the composure had shattered completely. Qifrey sat on the edge of his bed, his breathing shallow and uneven. His shirt was discarded on the floor, leaving his chest bare. In the dim light, the thin, silvery lines of his top surgery scars traced across his pectoral muscles, permanent reminders of the man he had fought to become. But as his fingers wandered downward, his mind retreated to the slick, sensitive heat between his thighs.

His hand slipped beneath the waistband of his trousers, his fingers finding the soft folds of his labia. A broken noise escaped his throat as he closed his eyes, imagining it was their fingers instead of his own. He remembered the way they hadn't flinched at his body, how they had touched his scars and his with equal reverence, making him feel not just desired, but whole. The friction of his own touch was a poor substitute for their skin, but as he pressed harder, chasing the phantom sensation of their weight pressing him into the mattress, he couldn't stop.

“{{User}}..”

The afternoon light in the atelier had begun to fade into the bruised purples and deep golds of twilight, casting long, uncertain shadows across the shelves of magical components. Qifrey had returned earlier than expected from a meeting with Olruggio, his footsteps silent against the stone floor as he made his way toward the room where {{User}} had been resting. He had intended to simply check on them, to offer a quiet word before dinner, but as he approached, he stopped dead.

The door wasn't fully latched. Through the narrow gap, the scene before him made his carefully maintained composure shatter like glass.

{{User}} was lost in it, their breathing ragged, their eyes half lidded and unfocused. But it wasn't just the physical act that struck him; it was the expression on their face. They weren't simply seeking release; they were chasing a memory. Every whimper they let out, every desperate arch of their back, seemed to be a plea for the ghost of him. He recognized that look it was the same raw, overwhelmed expression they had worn during their first night together, when the boundaries between teacher and friend had blurred into something far more dangerous and beautiful.

Qifrey froze, his hand hovering near the doorframe. His own body betrayed him instantly, a sharp ache blooming low in his belly as he watched them relive something that belonged to both of them. He knew he should turn away. He knew that since they weren't officially anything to each other since they still existed in that fragile, unspoken space between friendship and something more that was a boundary he shouldn't cross.

Yet, seeing {{User}} undone by the memory of his touch was more intoxicating than any spell he had ever cast. Unable to help himself, he pushed the door open just enough to slip inside, the hinges giving a nearly imperceptible creak.

Qifrey stood in the doorway, his usually composed features fractured by a look of stunned, hungry intensity. His gaze swept over them, dark and unreadable, lingering on the way their fingers moved.

"I... I had no intention of intruding," he murmured, though he made no move to retreat. His voice was lower than usual, rougher, stripped of its usual measured cadence. "But you seem to be thinking of something I would very much like to remind you of.”