#jozy

Ozy and Jamil weren’t supposed to know each other. Jamil was playing the role of the uncompromising librarian and Ozy the irresponsible book borrower. The only authentic component in this scenario was the library itself. It wasn’t really a stage, but rather, an actual space dedicated to holding knowledge and protecting it. Chosen simply because when it came to generating excitement in Ozy, the real thing held more power than something artificial or made specifically for the occasion. 

But the glasses were a curveball.

Ozy almost forgot his opening line as he approached the rotunda desk, absently wetting his pierced lip and dragging gaze down Jamil’s open collar. 

The grey mage barely heard the musician call his name.

“Sorry,” Ozy blinked and tried to refocus despite the tightening sensation in the otherwise loose shorts he wore. “What was that again?” 

“You have several overdue books on your record, Ozy. I’m afraid you can’t leave until you pay the fine.”

Jamil stepped out from behind the desk, sending Ozy for yet another loop. The latter expected to see Jamil in an appropriate companion to go with the crisp button-down. Instead, the musician approached Ozy in a pair of dark garter straps, his shirt tails barely covering his package. 

Now, strictly speaking, Ozy wasn’t one to swear.

However, in this moment he was thinking over some words.

Later on, when Ozy came faster than expected, Jamil playfully reprimanded him.

“Ozy. You can do better than that. Or am I wrong?”

“No,” Ozy said quickly. “I can do better.”

Eager to satisfy, he used his tongue to catch some of the cum that landed on Jamil’s chest. Working his way up the musician’s warm neck, he repeated in a whisper, “I can do better.”

Ozy went from ogling the dark spread of hair on Jamil’s broad, generous chest, to gazing deep in the greenest of eyes.

Jamil swallowed under the intensity of Ozy’s eye contact. Slowly, he tried to remove his glasses, but Ozy’s hand interrupted him. 

“Leave them.”

When Jamil agreed, but asked him why, Ozy surprised him again.

“Those glasses might not be anything special to you, but they’re quite distracting for me, Jamil.” He lowered his head near Jamil’s crotch, walking his lips just above the lateral garter strap. “You have no idea.”

Jamil was honestly not expecting Ozy to fixate on his glasses of all things. He simply brought them along because they went with the whole sexy librarian getup. He thought that Ozy would have said something about the new cologne he was wearing. Or maybe his beard, which he had trimmed and styled special for this occasion. Perhaps even the very tight garter straps riding up his thighs – but the glasses?

“You’ll have to elaborate on that one, babe,” Jamil said with a smile, fighting to ignore his twitching cock the more Ozy danced around the area.

A rare glint passed over Ozy’s features as he brought his body so that he was hovering directly over Jamil. His curtain of locs fell to one side, blocking out the light and casting half of Ozy’s smiling face in darkness.

“Let me see if I can try to explain.”

The mage angled his head just a tad. His lips grazed the corner of Jamil’s mouth. Then he made him listen as he described what those glasses meant to him. How he could never quite look at Jamil in them without having thoughts of being fucked senseless. 

“Ozy? Did you just–” Jamil laughed in disbelief at the sudden turn in language.

“Sorry. I said fuck, didn’t I? That one slipped out.” 

Ozy didn’t look the least bit apologetic. He sighed and added, “It’s not a rational reaction, I know. Afterall, they are just an accessory.” 

He gave the rim of Jamil’s frames a curious, but gentle tap. “But I’ve held back so many times seeing you in these. I know how important it is that you have time to focus on your work. It wouldn’t be fair for me to ask you to use me… like your own personal toy. Now would it?”

There was pause in the discussion where Jamil and Ozy clashed in a heated kiss. 

The musician’s words came out rushed. “You don’t have to hold back now, Ozy. I’m not working. I’m… we are here to play. So ask me.” He slowed down the kiss and nipped languidly on the gold ring in Ozy’s bottom lip.

“You can have whatever you want tonight, babe.”

Ozy loved the way Jamil phrased such things. As if he hadn’t said something like that the night before. As if he wasn’t willing to give his all to Ozy every night. Whenever Ozy needed him. Whenever there was no need at all. 

“If you don’t mind doing so with those on,” Ozy said, his voice dropping to a vulnerable baritone, “then I’d like you to use me, toy with me, Jamil. As many times as you want. Please.”

Jamil adjusted the frames a smidge higher on his nose and winked a little too deliberately to be anything but dead serious.

Before the sun’s first rays had even ghosted over the horizon, Jamil had decorated the interior of the shop from top to bottom with colorful streamers, heart-shaped pillows and fuzzy throws on the couch, heart-shaped garland wrapped around the railing of the stairs leading up to the next floor. He had started brewing coffee just as the sun peeked up and was able to turn and hand Camia her own cup just as she entered the kitchen.

“Good morning,” he said, giving her a warm smile.

She laughed through her nose, taking the cup from him. “You know, every year I think I’ll beat you awake—”

Jamil laughed. “And every year I just get up earlier.”

Smiling, she rolled her eyes. “I can’t stand you.” Taking her cup with her, she started walking back towards the stairs. “I’m going to water my plants. Don’t you dare finish making breakfast without me.”

“I haven’t even started yet!”

She waved at him over her shoulder before disappearing, and he heard her walk towards the stairs to her garden. Once he was sure she was out of earshot, he hurried to pull out all of the ingredients he would need to start breakfast. He had picked up bread from Selasi yesterday to dip into eggs, fry, and cover with powdered sugar and berries. He had some spiced sausage and fish to roast, and eggs to cook, and just as he started boiling water for tea, Camia returned.

“Jamil.”

He looked up and saw her standing in the doorway of the kitchen with her arms crossed over her chest, a pout on her face. “Hey, everything’s still cooking!” He gestured at the pans still sizzling around him. “You only said not to finish before you came back.”

Shaking her head, she bumped him with her hip at the stove, taking over the eggs from him as he started on the tea.

A few moments later, they both heard Alec’s door open upstairs, and she ran across the hallway into their room, where Leon was assumedly still sleeping. Not for long, Jamil thought with a quiet chuckle, and from the look on Camia’s face she was thinking the same. Neither of them could make out exactly what Alec was saying, but they could hear Leon’s dramatic moan of protest well enough.

While Alec wrestled with Leon to drag them out of bed, another set of feet came down the stairs, and Jamil turned to look as Asra entered the kitchen, white, curly hair going every possible direction, wiping the sleep from his eyes.

“Ah! Good morning,” Jamil said, holding out a cup to Asra, who took it with a grateful smile. “Surprised to see you up so early.”

“Well,” Asra interrupted himself with a yawn. “You know what Allie’s like today.”

Jamil did know, as they all did. While he considered himself to be the most romantic person he knew, Alec was probably a close second. Though she never managed to wake up as early as he did, she was just as excited about the day as he was. And judging by the growing sound of her arguing with Leon as they came down the stairs, this year was no different.

“I’m going to throw your gift in the garbage, you pest,” Leon grumbled, their hair loose and in their face as they were practically dragged into the kitchen by Alec.

Alec rolled her eyes, a wide grin on her face as she took in the dishes around them. “Oh, shut up—look! Breakfast is done!”

Before Leon could retort something about not being able to look, Jamil took their arm to lead them to the table, distracting them with a quick kiss on their cheek. They pouted slightly, but gave in, sitting down with Asra on their left, Jamil on their right. Camia and Alec helped bring the food to the table, Camia sitting next to Jamil, and Alec next to her, and then they all dug in.

The food was, of course, delicious, and Jamil tried not to look too proud when it was all cleared away. They all spent a few minutes chatting away and cleaning up, but once the kitchen was spotless, Alec pushed them all into the back room to exchange gifts. She claimed a spot on the floor, Asra next to her, and the other three sat on the couch.

This was probably Jamil’s favorite part. Not even seeing what his friends had gotten for him, but the looks on their faces when he handed them their gifts.

He gave Camia the newest book from a romance series she had been interested in for years—that he had been reading behind her back—and she laughed as she handed him the same book, both of them doubling over against each other on the couch.

“I think we’ve known each other for too long,” he said through tears, and she just continued to laugh, shaking her head at him.

Next, he gave Leon their gift—a new dress he had been working on for a while, a soft green that looked very nice with their skin and their dark eyes, and the fabric was something Leon had picked out themself one day at the market. Their eyes sparkled once they felt the dress and realized what it was.

“I almost completely forgot I picked this out!”

Jamil chuckled. “I thought you would, but better late than never.”

“It’s never late coming from you,” they said, and handed him their gift—small silver hoop earrings that he put on the second he opened the box they were in.

Alec was hard to get to sit still for her gift, but once she did, she almost screamed when he pulled out a new set of bangles, and she immediately put them on, giggling as they jangled around her wrists. She gave him some new colored charcoal, which he was immensely grateful for, as he had been out of his for quite some time.

Last, but not least, was Asra, and when Jamil pulled out a multicolored shawl, Asra and Alec yelled at the same time.

“I figured you needed something to match that, uh, colorful hat of yours,” Jamil explained, as Asra pulled the shawl from him excitedly. Alec groaned dramatically, covering her eyes.

“Jamil, you’re enabling him and his awful fashion sense!”

Asra stuck his tongue out at her, spinning around in his new shawl, a bright smile on his face. “He just likes me better.”

As the two of them started to bicker, Jamil laughed, standing from the couch. By now, the sun was steadily rising in the sky, and the sounds of the city outside were getting louder by the minute. He was still in his sleepwear, which was really just a pair of old pants, and he went back upstairs to change for the day.

Humming a waltz softly to himself, and listening absentmindedly to the noise from downstairs, he fished out a light pink sherwani with darker pink and green flowers woven over it, and matching pants and slippers. He ran some oil through his hair and his beard that smelled of jasmine, sandalwood, and vanilla, and pulled up half of his hair, a few strands falling out to frame his temples as the rest still sat on his shoulders.

When he came downstairs again, Camia whistled at him, Leon stretched across her lap. Alec and Asra were back in Alec’s room, judging from the sound of their voices, probably picking out their own outfits for the day.

“I haven’t seen that in a long time,” Camia said, and Jamil nodded.

“It’s hard to find an occasion for it, but today will do.”

Camia opened her mouth to say something else, but a knock at the front door stopped her. Jamil glanced out the front window, seeing the back of a palace carriage waiting in front of the shop.

“Ah, that’ll be for me.” Jamil smoothed down the front of his sherwani. Before walking to the door, he went over to Camia and Leon, pressing a quick kiss to each of their cheeks. “I love you both, I’ll see you tonight.”

“Say hi to Dia for me,” Leon said, and Jamil promised he would.

It was still early enough that the streets weren’t too busy as Jamil rode in the carriage to the palace. He smiled as he noticed the decorations in the square, the marketplace, streamers hung down alleyways and store fronts. He caught glimpses of lovers holding hands in the streets, of families heading to the market to celebrate, and his heart swelled.

He reached the palace in no time at all, and was led to a salon, where his cousin was waiting, though not without stopping a few times to say hello to people he knew throughout. Before even opening the doors to the salon, he could hear music drifting down the hall, Nadia’s graceful piano playing bringing a soft smile to his cheeks.

As soon as he pushed open the doors, she glanced up at him, looking radiant in the morning sun.

“Jamil, good morning.”

“Good morning, Nadia.” He closed the distance between them in a few strides, wrapping her in a warm hug. She let out a noise of surprise, but laughed, and hugged him back. When they let go, she shifted on the piano bench, gesturing for him to join her. He did, nudging her shoulder playfully, and she nudged him back. They both started to play a piece together, neither focusing too much on accuracy, and Nadia turned her head to him.

“How has your day been so far?”

He hummed thoughtfully. “It’s been great. I’m glad we’re able to spend some of it together.”

“I’m glad as well,” she said, smiling. “I know I am in quite high demand these days as Countess, but you’re no easier to get a hold of at times.”

Jamil laughed. “I wish I could disagree with you. But that’s what today is for, isn’t it? To spend time with those who matter most.”

“It is.”

They fell into conversation, still playing at the piano, until they finished their piece and moved to sit on the couches in the salon. Here Jamil was able to pull out the gift he had brought for her, tucked away in a small traveling bag—a few delicate tools for her machinery that she had been lamenting the loss of for months.

Nadia was thrilled, and she marveled over the quality of the tools for a long minute before remembering to give Jamil his own gift. With a clap of her hands, a few servants walked inside the salon, carrying an extremely large canvas.

“Dia, I won’t be able to carry this back to the shop,” Jamil said, shaking his head with a smile.

She waved her hand, and the servants began to flip the canvas so he could see what was on it. “I hardly expected you to. I will have it delivered to the shop. I just wanted you to be able to see it first, and for me to see your reaction.”

Jamil barely heard what she said and didn’t catch the satisfied look on her face as his jaw dropped open when the painting was revealed to him.

It was of him—him, Camia, Leon, and Alec. It looked like a memory, a snapshot of a moment, the four of them performing together in the town square. Sunlight filtered around them, faces artistically blurred as if they were in motion. Jamil could almost hear the song they could have been playing, the sound of the crowd around them.

“How…?”

“I had an artist at one of your more recent performances.” He could hear the smile in Nadia’s voice. “They were instructed to capture as much of the moment in the moment as they could, and then the rest was done from memory. I hope you, and the rest of your friends, enjoy it.”

“Oh, Dia, I love it,” Jamil whispered, swallowing back tears. “They’re all going to love it. Thank you.”

Nadia stood, gesturing to the servants to leave, and they did, but not before leaving the painting propped up for Jamil to stare at. “You’re welcome. It was very hard to keep this a secret.” She leaned gently against his arm, and he smiled, still looking at the painting.

“I can’t imagine.”

They heard a clock chime, and Jamil jumped slightly, wiping at his eyes.

“Gods, I hadn’t realized I had been here for so long already.” He glanced out the window at the sun already high in the sky.

“And here I thought I had managed to dodge the predisposition to engage in long-winded talks that runs in our family,” Nadia said, dryly, and Jamil laughed.

“No, unfortunately that’s impossible to get around, Countess,” he teased.

They hugged once more before he left, and he accepted her offer of taking another carriage back into the city, especially as it had only gotten more crowded since he arrived. As he told the driver his next destination, a warm feeling started to grow in his chest. Now, he only had one more gift left to give, and it was the most important one of the day.

✨Timeline Split✨

@atypicalacademic​‘s Haider — Everybody Needs A Home

@asras3rdeye​‘s Oz’mandias — Ocean In My Veins

@valhallanrose​‘s Tamryn — When I Take Your Hand