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When Olruggio gets back from the market that day with a box of stone-husk walnuts he's more than a little pleased with himself. They're out of season, not to mention rare in these parts anyway, but he got a good deal on the little wooden chest of them and he knows it's been a while since Qifrey had any. Usually, he snacks on them whenever he can hunt them down but they'd been particularly rare this year; all the more reason he's excited about the buy.
But when he sets the crate down and lets Qifrey open it the expression he gets is a bit more… reluctant than he's expecting. Qifrey's smile wavers into a little wobbly frown, brows pulled together, and he rolls one of the objects from the box in his hand and speaks to Olruggio hesitantly.
"How much did you pay for these?" he asks.
Ah, just expenses? "Not much," Olruggio says, stepping around the counter to lean against Qifrey's side, arm wrapping around his waist comfortably. "I got a good deal."
Qifrey relaxes some. He turns his body into him to nuzzle against Olruggio's neck and he leans his head back in response, giving more room for Qifrey to press against his pulse.
"Oh dear," Qifrey sighs, turning his face to rub his cheek against Olruggio's cloak. "I'm afraid I have a secret to tell you."
There are no real, serious secrets between them anymore. Beyond little white lies to surprise each other, they avoid any and all deception now. Olruggio knows that Qifrey hates when he shaves his beard so now he just trims it down for summer. Qifrey knows that Olruggio can't stand when he puts his cold toes on the backs of his knees so he wears socks to bed. They're beyond hurt feelings about minor issues; to know the truth is worth that.
So the next words out of Qifrey's mouth do not upset Olruggio but they do confuse him.
"I hate walnuts," he says—almost a whisper where he's pressed his face against Olruggio's shoulder.
"You do? But… you eat them all the time."
Qifrey straightens back up to send him a hesitant little smile. "I did. Minor discomforts were an easy way to keep the Silverwood tree from growing. So I found little daily things to balance out how happy my life was."
It makes sense, in a backwards way that Qifrey often does make sense, but Olruggio gawks at him a moment anyway. Then, because Qifrey is smiling, he laughs. Olruggio watches as Qifrey's face scrunches up into laughter too, perhaps a little too pleased with himself.
"I can't believe I just got you a food you hate as a gift," he chuckles.
Qifrey giggles and grabs the front of his cloak, pulling him closer. "You didn't know," he says, kissing him quick and excited before adding, "it's still really sweet."
"But what do you like?" Olruggio asks, reaching up to cup Qifrey's cheek.
Humming, Qifrey leans into his palm and considers the question. "I suppose it's been a while since I really sought out my favorite things," he admits.
"Make me a list," Olruggio tells him, "and I'll get everything you haven't been able to enjoy for you."
Olruggio puts the girls to work using the walnuts up with cookies and loaf cakes. He's proud that Qifrey politely turns down the offer of said snacks when they ask, even if the girls are about as confused as he was. The assortment of foods Qifrey used to eat that he does, in fact, enjoy is an odd one; he likes spice, though perhaps slightly less than he used to apply to his food, and cheese, though he informs Olruggio sheepishly that it doesn't do much kindness to his stomach. He still enjoys the fancy teas he gravitates toward, though he admits with some hesitance that one is far too sour how he used to drink it.
"What about, ah, fruits?" Olruggio asks, leaning on his elbows across the table from him.
Qifrey makes an uncertain sound and taps his fingers against the table, then splays his hands flat on the surface and slides them out as far as they can go. Olruggio moves to take them, fingers lacing together.
"I haven't eaten my favorite produce in so long I'm not sure what I like," he admits, "I just eat what I know is good for me."
"Sounds sad," Olruggio replies. Qifrey laughs and tugs at his hands, making him wobble forward a little. "What?"
"Not the worst part of my former affliction," Qifrey says, "but yes, perhaps a little sad."
Thinking for a moment, Olruggio finally squeezes at his hands and brings one up to he can kiss Qifrey's knuckles. "Want to go to the market and just find a few that sound nice to try?" he offers.
"Mm, can't hurt." Qifrey smiles. "Especially if you're going to cook for me?"
This gets Olruggio chuckling. "Of course, who do you think I am?"
At the market, met with the sounds and smells of the busy stalls, Qifrey ambles to a stop next to a booth and sticks his hand out. It's aimed back and slightly to the right, where he knows Olruggio will be close by. He doesn't need the help, not really; the cane in his other hand is something he's navigated the place on his own with more than once, but after a moment holding his hand out he flexes his fingers, impatient, until Olruggio steps forward to offer his arm. Qifrey rests his hand on the inside of his elbow and relaxes immediately, in step next to him.
"Where are we going first?" he asks.
Olruggio hums and considers their options. It's a busy day, lots of vendors, but he finds himself struggling. He tries not to think first of the foods he's seen Qifrey eating and instead of ones he's never seen him have. Or at least hasn't seen him eat in a while.
"Maybe custard melon?" he offers finally, "you don't like tart foods much, and you like puddings and things, so maybe it's worth a try? I could swear we had it when we were kids but it's been a while…"
Qifrey pats at his arm. "Not sure I remember… Do you like it?"
"It's a lot of work for one person," he explains, "and the girls have never seemed interested. So it's been a long time since I've had any."
"So, new for both of us then."
Fair. Olruggio smiles and bumps their shoulders together as they walk. The market is quiet but he knows by now that word will get around about seeing them together like this; gossips and the like. It hardly bothers him and Qifrey seems to all but bask in the fact people whispered about their love life but it was still fairly entertaining seeing folks try and fail to be stealthy in their stares.
Most of all, Olruggio just wants to avoid the guy he bought those walnuts from. He can't handle the embarrassment of being asked how they were only to have to say "oh, actually, I had no idea but he hates them!" It's too much.
So he opts to lead them down the alternate route. It's a bit longer to the stall he knows has custard melons and a few other items Qifrey might like but it's worth it and Qifrey doesn't seem to mind the detour. He doesn't really seem to notice it at all, instead focused on embarrassing Olruggio in other ways.
"I would ask what you'd suggest, but I think you're a lot pickier than I am."
Olruggio sputters, offended. "I am not! I eat plenty of different foods."
"Mmhm," Qifrey clicks his tongue. "How long is your list of foods you enjoy?"
"Don't put me on the spot. Th-this isn't even about me!"
Qifrey pats his elbow affectionately. "Of course, of course. Artful dodging of the question, love."
Olruggio wasn't certain if his ears burned from the teasing or the petname. Either way, he felt flushed as they finally made their way over to the stall he's been headed for. The melons look nice, as do a few other things, but after a second of eyeing things, he picks up one of the pears and holds it up for Qifrey.
"Here," he says, gently settling it into Qifrey's hands when he holds them out. "What do you think of this?"
Qifrey carefully brings it up to his nose and sniffs. He cocks his head to the side, considering, then asks, "Do you like them?"
"It doesn't matter if I like them," Olruggio huffs, "we're trying to find things you like."
"I'm sure I'll like what you do."
Olruggio shakes his head, "Nope, nope. That's not what we're doing."
Qifrey makes a face, pouting at him actually. "Why not?"
"I want it to be what you really like, Qifrey," he says, reaching out and cupping his hands around Qifrey's and in turn the pear. "So we're going to ignore whether or not I like things and just find what it is you do."
Still pouting, just a bit, Qifrey brings the fruit up to his face again and sniffs. He tilts his head to one side, thinking, and then shrugs. "Do they taste like apple?"
Olruggio thinks. "Not really," he says, "they're much more floral."
"I don't think I like this one," he decides finally. Olruggio wants to cheer at getting a solid opinion of it but he holds back. Best not to ruin the moment.
"Alright," he says, carefully taking the pear from his hands. "You mentioned apples, do you like those?"
Qifrey starts to answer, smirk tugging at his lips, then stops. Like he suddenly realizes that he can't be smart about this answer; like "you ask me like you don't know" isn't as suitable of a comeback as he expected. Then, he settles into a more subdued smile and nods.
"I do," he says, "if we could get some I'd love to make something with the girls."
"Of course," Olruggio replies, easily adding a few good ones to his growing bag. "Anything else I should know you like?" He nudges Qifrey with his elbow and gets a laugh out of him for it.
"I can think of a few things," he admits.
The list is simple enough. They leave with a bag of produce and a few fresh seafood items; Qifrey does like the stuff, despite his reistance to being in or near the water itself. It's a bit reassuring for Olruggio simply to know some things aren't that different. Especially when Qifrey makes them detour just to get a few fancy cheeses…
At home, he leaves Qifrey and the girls to whatever project he had in mind for the apples while working on dinner. It's more or less an assortment of side dishes at this point; 2 different ways to have most of the things they got and a few extra of the protein because he knows Richeh is picky about fish. By the time he's done the counters look like a buffet at one of his clients' fancy parties and he's a little proud of himself for it.
The girls are excited, at least, even if Coco pauses over the roasted fish heads with a concerned little frown. "Don't have to try anything you don't want to," he assures her, getting a glass of wine for himself while everyone fills their plates. "This is all for Qifrey to test out."
At this, Qifrey pipes up. "Do I have to try anything I don't want to?" he asks.
Olruggio snorts and shakes his head. "You do, because you don't know anything you like," he says.
Already seated, waiting for Olruggio to decide the fate of his plate tonight, Qifrey smiles at him. "I know some things I like."
"Like what?" Olruggio asks, raising his elbow when Tetia ducks around him to grab a few spoonfuls of something. "We could have gotten that."
"You," Qifrey replies, sounding far too innocent.
Olruggio barks out a surprised laugh and across from him he watches Richeh and Agott roll their eyes at this display of affection. Oh, one day they'd know how it felt! One day they'd have a partner who made them just as flustered as Qifrey always managed to make him even when being corny.
Recovering quickly, he adds one of the roasted fish heads to the plate. "They don't sell that at the market," he says, "only one of me."
He's wondered if more of him would be helpful before! They could take turns working on jobs…
"I've got you already, too," Qifrey adds helpfully, face upturned in a happy little squint like a cat in sunshine. Olruggio can't help but lean down and press a kiss to his forehead, lingering a moment longer than usual when Qifrey nudges up into him lightly, since perhaps they're both cats when they want to be.
Holding up one of the fish heads skewered between two chopsticks, Richeh pulls his attention away. "How do I eat it?"
Settling down next to Qifrey, perhaps too prepared for this task, he motions for her to watch as he picks some of the bits of meat from the unique cut of fish. "The cheeks are nicest," he explains, carefully scooping one out and presenting it to Qifrey, who dutifully takes the bite from his spoon and hums pleasantly. "Tender, a little fatty. It's nice meat, even if there isn't much. You can eat most of it, other than the bone," he trails off, digging out another piece to show her. "Tongue." Qifrey makes a face so he puts the piece in his own mouth instead. "Suit yourself. It's a little spongey, but good flavor."
"It still has its eyes," Richeh informs him with a frown. "Do you eat those?"
"You… can," Olruggio says slowly, looking down at his own fish head while he works the other bit of cheek meat loose for Qifrey. "I don't like them much. Kinda just jelly… but salty."
Qifrey's face scrunches more at the description. "Do not feed me eyeballs," he warns when Olruggio holds the spoon up for him again.
Olruggio laughs and pecks him on the cheek. "I wouldn't dare."
"Yeah," Tetia chimes in, upset little frown on her face. "That seems sort of offensive."
This makes Qifrey let out a surprised laugh, almost spitting his mouthful of food. Olruggio chuckles along and pats his back. "Perhaps a little bit," he admits, Qifrey nodding with him through his coughed up giggles.
Across the table, Richeh decides to eat one of the fish eyes. She follows this by making a face, scrunched like she'd eaten something bitter, and shakes her head. Still, she does manage to keep it down so Olruggio gives an impressed little whistle.
"Not sure anyone is interested in them," he offers, leaning to pull the next dish closer. "Try some of the melon I got earlier," he prompts Qifrey.
This, at least, he leaves Qifrey to his own devices with. He watches as Qifrey cups the bowl in his hands before slowly inching his fingers over the rim, feeling along gently before he can pluck up a small hunk of the fruit. It's a pale cream color, smooth texture and firm, and Qifrey brings it up to sniff before happily popping it in his mouth. The taste is as creamy as the color, akin to custard as it is aptly named after, and the little smile Qifrey gets as he chews tells Olruggio it was a good choice.
"Lovely," he says, "I think I do remember having this now."
"Do you remember why you stopped having it?" Olruggio asks, brow raised.
Qifrey's smile goes a little lopsided. It's a bit sad, something that pains Olruggio to realize. "I think I liked the memory of it too much," he explains, "you were so happy to share it with me and I loved it even more…"
The sad little noise that burbles in Olruggio's throat takes some effort to force down but he manages. "Well," he rasps instead, "I'm just as excited to share it again too."
"Thank you," Qifrey says. He tilts his face toward Olruggio, eyes closed, and the request for a kiss is clear. It's a little way he initiates now that he can't see well. One Olruggio adores more than he can express.
He leans in too and presses a kiss to Qifrey's lips. Just a quick peck, laced with the sweetness of the melon still lingering on Qifrey's mouth, but it still makes his heart flutter.
"Happy to help," Olruggio tells him, earnest. He watches happily as Qifrey plucks up another piece of fruit and eats it. "Want to try something else now? I have some spicy things… since you weren't sure if you still liked some of those or not."
Qifrey laughs—at the absurdity of his situation more than anything—and nods. "Sounds like another good place to test."
The meal goes well. In the end they have a rather nice list of things Qifrey does and doesn't like. A few he wants to try differently just to be sure. It settles Olruggio's nerves in a certain way to know he has treats he can get Qifrey that he actually enjoys, that he can cook him a meal and trust he will love every piece of it for more than just the simple fact that Olruggio made it.
That night, settled into bed with their evening reading in his hands, Olruggio leans against Qifrey's shoulder and pauses, considering the novel. Since they'd begun this little ritual they hadn't read a single one of the books Qifrey used to spend his free time reading… And for a moment he worries before the idea even occurs to him.
"Qifrey, is there anything else you used to do that you didn't like? To control the Silverwood. Like… your reading?"
At this, Qifrey snorts out a laugh. "Caught me," he sighs. "Quite a few things, actually."
Olruggio rubs at the bridge of his nose with a little sigh. "I knew it wasn't like you to enjoy detective novels… you'll have to make me a list of other things you actually hate tomorrow."
"I'll do my best," Qifrey replies, reaching down and squeezing Olruggio's arm gently. "At least now you know plenty of things I do like."
"Like me?" Olruggio asks jokingly.
And even with how innocent and silly the sentiment is, his heart still flutters when Qifrey says, "Like you."