Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“That rat looks super fucked up,” Loona said over Blitzø’s shoulder. “What? Were you playing whack-a-mole in whatever shit alley you found it in?”

“Give me some credit, Loonie. I caught this fucker with my bare hands,” Blitzø said, glancing up at her and wiggling his fingers. “I’m gettin' better at it.” She raised an unimpressed brow, pulling out her phone as she walked over to sit at the kitchen table, leaving him where he was standing at the counter.

“So fucking it up was a choice. Noted,” she said, scrolling through her phone, now seemingly disinterested. Blitzø looked back down at the plate. The rat was splayed out in its full, flattened glory, guts spilling out in places. Its many red eyes were wide, and its mouth was gaping open like it was still in shock that it got caught. Heh. If only the poor dickbag knew it’d been up against a professional assassin.

Looking at its pathetic expression now, Blitzø only felt smug. He’d been bitten by these assholes enough times to make this new routine personal. He rubbed at the fresh bite on his wrist, pulling at the long sleeve of his oversized yellow shirt to make sure it was covered. That hellbies shot he got was really paying off.

“A fancy choice, Loonie,” he corrected. “Moxxie told me about it.” He reached over to grab his handy brick. Then turned around to face her, waving the brick in the air. Loona glanced up from her phone, giving the brick an unimpressed look. “You’re supposed to put this on top of it while it cooks. Makes the meat crispy or whatever-the-fuck.”

“How?”

“Who the hell knows,” Blitzø said with a shrug. “I only know what happens when I get on top of something." Loona rolled her eyes.

“Rich cockbags love saying something’s fancy when it actually sucks,” she pointed out, ignoring Blitzø’s joke and looking back at her phone. 

“You make a good point,” Blitzø conceded, setting the brick back down on the counter and picking up the plate. He inspected it again, furrowing his brow. Then he reached over to grab the salt, shaking it over the smushed rat. “But this is the kinda stuff that Stolas is used to. Not the cheap shit we eat.”

“Think he’ll eat it?” Loona asked, glancing over at the window that looked out on the fire escape. Stolas had his arms propped up on the railing, his back facing them. He was wearing a long, dark purple sweater that Blitzø had stolen for him. He’d been out there for a while. 

“Fuck I hope so,” Blitzø exhaled, eyes roaming over the curve of Stolas’ back. He could see the tension in his shoulders. The hunched slope of his neck. 

“Tell him that broke bitches like him can’t be picky,” she suggested. Blitzø scoffed, leaving the kitchen to make his way to the fire escape.

‘I wish he was just being picky,’ he thought. He used his tail to open the sliding door, stepping out onto the fire escape and turning the corner. He carefully set the plate down on the stairs, moving to lean his back against the railing on Stolas’ left. Stolas was looking out at the city, but based on his expression it didn’t seem like he was looking at anything in particular.

“Hey,” Blitzø said, and Stolas jumped, looking down at him in surprise. Blitzø raised a brow.

“Sorry. I didn't notice that you joined me,” Stolas said, a flatness in his tone. Blitzø noticed the gray and gold journal in his hands. He glanced at the two red flowers on the cover, then met Stolas’ gaze again. 

“You’ve been a major space-case today, big bird,” he observed gently. He’d usually have more bite in his words, a teasing, aggressive edge. It’d fly with almost anyone else, or if it didn’t, Blitzø wouldn’t give a fuck, but that’s not what Stolas needed right now. 

“Have I?” Stolas said vaguely, looking out at the city once more. “Sorry.” 

“What’ve I said about ‘sorry’? Cut that cringe shit out.”

“Right. I apologize,” Stolas said, giving Blitzø a slight bow of his head. Blitzø opened his mouth to protest, but then noticed the ghost of a smile tugging at Stolas’ beak.

“You know that counts, bitch,” he said with a grin. Stolas let out a weak laugh, more like a puff of air, and his smile left as quickly as it came.

“I appreciate that you’re being so adamant about this, Blitzø, but it’s hard not to feel as if I owe you an apology,” Stolas confessed. “And perhaps…” he sighed, holding his journal to his chest, “Since I cannot properly apologize to my daughter, it gives me some modicum of relief to at least apologize to someone I care about.” He hesitated. “Is that wrong of me?” He frowned. “Am I taking advantage of you by -?”

"No, Stols,” Blitzø said, pushing off the railing and turning to face the city as well. He put a hand on Stolas’ hip, stepping closer to him. He didn’t know what else to say. It was an absolutely fucked spot to be in. He couldn’t imagine how he’d be feeling if he was in Stolas’ position. Not being able to see your own daughter while knowing that said daughter probably hated you? That was fucking tough. 

Blitzø clenched his fist, the one not resting against Stolas’ hip. And it wasn’t fair. But what could Blitzø do about it? Sneak into the palace, kidnap Octavia, and force her to sit down and hear her dad out? He didn’t think Stolas would be thrilled about that. 

But he also didn’t want Stolas to feel like he had to keep apologizing for every little thing, to feel like his existence was now a burden when Blitzø owed him so much, cared about him so much. This tentative, sad, uncertain thing they had going on - it was fucking frustrating. Not because he wanted Stolas to change how he felt, but because Blitzø should be able to fix this. He just didn’t know how.

“I started writing letters to her,” Stolas confessed, holding out his journal to look down at it. Blitzø watched as he ran his fingertips across the cover, expression sad. “I try to explain why I made the choices I did, and how much I'd been struggling not to ruin our family, not to ruin her childhood. How I wanted to be better, but I just…couldn’t, anymore, and most of all how sorry I am for making her feel like a burden, or a source of my unhappiness, when that is so deeply untrue -”

“Hey,” Blitzø said, seeing the exhaustion in Stolas’ expression, the waver in his bottom lip. He grabbed one of Stolas’ hands, leading him over to sit on the stairs. Then he placed the plate in Stolas’ lap, taking a step away to look at him, putting his hands on his hips. They were at eye-level now. “One day you’ll get to tell her all the shit that’s on your mind. And she’ll get it. And then everything’ll be okay. Better than okay.”

He saw Stolas’ forced smile, and his hands twitched as his sides. He wanted to reach out, to pull Stolas into a hug, but he wasn’t sure if that’s what Stolas wanted right now. He was trying to be careful, for once, instead of being his usual, impulsive self.

“But you need to eat in the meantime, yeah?” he said instead. He watched as Stolas glanced down at the plate, his journal tucked under his arm.

“Did you find this under a car?” he asked, looking perplexed. 

“Damn, that’s a good guess! I shoulda thought of that!” Loona called out. Blitzø looked over at the window to see her laying on the couch now, still scrolling through her phone. The window was cracked open, and she’d always had incredible hearing, although she was selective about who she actually listened to. It was one of the many qualities that made his Loonie so perfect. 

“Everyone’s a fucking critic,” Blitzø said with a scoff, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes. “Direct all your complaints to Moxxie. He was the one who promised me this was a fancy human thing. But obviously he’s a fucking liar and he’s getting a brick to the dick when I see him next -”

He cut the threat short when Stolas suddenly stuck a finger into the rat. He watched with bated breath as the bird put said finger in his mouth, giving it a tentative suck. 

“Salty,” he said.

Typically watching Stolas doing and saying shit like that would’ve given Blitzø a few ideas of the horny variety, but right now he was just desperate to see this stubborn bitch eat something. 

“Good salty, yeah?” Blitzø asked brightly, feeling like a shitty salesman. Stolas picked up the smushed rat by the triangular-shaped end of its tail, holding it up in the air as he looked at it. Juices began to drip down onto the plate. Blitzø grinned. “And it’s juicy! That’s cuz of the fancy brick, I think!” Stolas looked over at Blitzø, not seeming convinced. 

“You really want me to eat this, don’t you?” It was then that Blitzø realized he was leaning forward, both hands on the stair railings, practically caging Stolas in as he watched the bird expectantly. Blitzø quickly took a step back, clearing his throat and looking away.

“I mean, it’d be good to know if it sucks,” he said with a shrug. “Then I’ll know if Moxx deserves a brick to the dick, or if I’ll just be doing it for fun.”

“As long as you do it either way!” Loona called out. Blitzø laughed. Then Stolas opened his mouth, swallowing the rat whole. Blitzø’s eyes widened, watching the way Stolas’ brow furrowed thoughtfully. But he said nothing.

“C’mon, don’t leave me in suspense here,” Blitzø said, putting his hands on the stair railings again, leaning towards him and tracking his expression, blinking at him expectantly. 

“It’s certainly…something,” Stolas finally offered. “I’m not sure if it needed quite so much salt. For a moment I thought I was about to be exorcized from this very fire escape. Salt is known to repel demons, as you know, Blitzø, and I am not as strong as I used to be -”

“That’s called flavor!” Blitzø argued. “It’s supposed to really hit ya when it’s done right!” Stolas smiled gently, tapping his talons against the sides of the plate.

“Right. Of course. Then consider me walloped.” Blitzø stepped away from the stairs to pump his fists.

“Fuck yeah! And Moxxie thought I couldn’t pull it off. Looks like I showed that dickhead!” 

But honestly, what Blitzø was really happy about wasn’t whether his food was good or not - that he didn’t really give much of a fuck about - but that he finally succeeded in getting Stolas to eat, and a whole rat at that. 

Some days were better than others, but the past few days had been particularly hard on Stolas. He’d barely touched any of his recent meals, and he was sleeping a lot. Every once in a while, he’d managed to convince Stolas to hang out with him at the office, even take some calls, but other days the bird couldn’t even get up from the couch. It always made Blitzø feel on edge, like he was fucking something up. So moments like these made him hopeful.

But just as he was starting to celebrate, he heard a quiet sniffle. He quickly dropped his arms, looking over to see Stolas wiping away tears. He hurried back over to him, reaching out his hands, but his own stupid instincts made him hesitate.

Then Stolas met his gaze, and Blitzø saw his watery eyes, those large pupils, that wobbling bottom lip. Fuck it. He placed both hands on Stolas’ cheeks, eyes roaming over the bird’s expression. Without thinking, he wrapped his tail around Stolas’ ankle.

“Sorr-” Stolas began, but stopped himself. Blitzø watched as he set his journal on the step next to him, his cheeks still cradled in Blitzø’s hands. “I just…I began to wonder whether Via would’ve enjoyed this.” He frowned. “I keep thinking about what she’d think about a lot of new things I have encountered since…” his voice trailed off. Then he took a breath, shaking his head slightly. “There’s no point in bringing that up. I must apologize for that -”

“You can talk about it,” Blitzø said, understanding what he meant. Since the trial. Since he lost everything, and all for Blitzø’s sake. “Rats are her favorite snack, right?” The small smile Stolas gave him felt like a minor victory, at least. 

“Yes. You remembered.” 

“I’ll make sure she gets to try it,” Blitzø promised, nodding at the now empty plate in Stolas’ lap. “And I’ll salt the shit out of it too, because flavor, babe.” Stolas laughed weakly at that, and that felt like a bigger victory. He really loved making Stolas laugh. 

“Don’t make leftovers when you do! There’s no fucking way I’m eating any of those alley turds!” Loona called out to him. “I’ll take the brick, though!” 

“For smashing windows?” Blitzø asked, dropping his hands from Stolas’ cheeks to look over at her through the window. But he still kept his tail wrapped around Stolas’ ankle, not wanting to completely let go of him.

“What else?” 

“That’s my Loonie-Toonie,” he cooed, beaming at her. She flipped him off, but there was a small smile on her lips as she scrolled through her phone. Then he noticed that Stolas was watching them, his expression hard-to-read. He watched as Stolas rested his fingertips against the cover of his journal, covering the eyes at the center of each flower. “Are you sure?” Blitzø blurted out. He winced when Stolas looked at him in surprise.

“Sure about what?”

Blitzø rubbed the back of his neck, finding it suddenly hard to meet his gaze. Now that Blitzø could see Stolas’ pupils all the time, his gaze was more expressive, and it was easier to know exactly where Stolas was looking. And right now, all of his attention was on Blitzø. It made him feel exposed in a way that made him squirm.

But this was Stolas. And although he knew this was a stupid question, he couldn’t get it off his mind, especially recently, and he was trying to be more vulnerable, like Stolas has been with him. He took a breath.

“I know you said that stuff about how saving my life was the right thing to do 'n all, but…” Blitzø sighed, kicking dust with his foot and shoving his hands in the pockets of his shorts. “Let’s say you had some kinda time machine and could do things over…would you do anything different?” Stolas seemed to consider the question, looking over at the skyline. 

“If I had a time machine…” he began, pensive, “If I could only travel back to right before I arrived at the trial, then I wouldn’t change anything,” Stolas said firmly. “But if I could travel to whatever time I wanted? Well...that's a different question.”

“Have an answer?” Blitzø asked, curious. “Can I getta 2-for-1 deal?” Stolas gave him a barely-there smile before looking down at his plate. 

“I…have regrets,” he began slowly. “There are many mistakes that I wish I could undo. Forgetting my promise to see Azathoth's tears with Octavia, allowing things to become so irreparably toxic between myself and Stella, forcing you into that deal…” Blitzø’s brows raised at that.

“What would you do instead?” He noticed Stolas’ uncertain look. “Say you traveled back in time to when I got caught at that lame-ass party. Knowing what you know now…” He watched as Stolas hesitated, thinking through his answer. Blitzø wasn’t sure what he wanted Stolas to say. But before he could decide, Stolas let out a tired laugh, shaking his head.

“I do not know,” he confessed. “My job has always been -” he paused. “My job was to focus on the future.” He paused again. “What about you, Blitzø? If a past version of yourself knew that this specific future was awaiting you, would you have taken any efforts to avoid it? Or would you have accepted it as it is?” Blitzø thought about it. There were certainly some good things he wouldn’t want to risk fucking up, but there were some bad things, too. Things he wished he had - family he wished he still had. Stupid mistakes he wished he’d never made.

“I’d want a future where you’re happier,” Blitzø found himself saying with a shrug, although he could feel his face heat up from embarrassment. It was a deflection from his own grief, but also a confession of what’d been on his mind ever since Octavia shut the door to the icy palace behind her. He found himself glancing at Stolas’ journal, now full of letters containing everything Stolas wanted to tell his daughter but couldn’t. 

“Maybe that future already exists.” Stolas offered. “No time travel needed. Just time. Like you said. A lot of time, perhaps...but it’s passing as we speak.” His words were meant to be hopeful, but Blitzø could clearly hear the defeat in them. The doubt. Blitzø’s eyes roamed over his expression, seeing the overall blankness in it. 

Blitzø wanted Stolas to be happier. But was Stolas even happy, period? Was he happy living this shabby life with Blitzø? If things were different, if Stolas hadn’t lost everything to save his life and had nowhere else to go, would Stolas still end up sitting here on Blitzø’s fire escape, eating rats and spending time with him? The thought scared Blitzø, although he didn’t want to admit it. Because he had a feeling he already knew the answer.

Before he could think it through, he took the plate and set it down on a lower step, hopping up onto the stairs and pulling the bird into a hug. After a moment, he felt Stolas wrap his arms around him, tucking his chin over Blitzø’s shoulder. Blitzø’s expression softened, squeezing Stolas a little tighter as he felt some of his own anxiety ease.  

“Was it that obvious that I needed a hug?” Stolas asked. “Or perhaps, out of the two of us, you’re the one who can see the future now?”

‘It was me who needed this, big bird,’ Blitzø thought to himself, but he let out a quiet chuckle instead, running a comforting hand up and down Stolas’ back. He could feel Stolas melt into it, and it filled him with a warm sense of satisfaction.

"Now tell me what the hell a 'modicum of relief' is, and how exactly I've been giving it to you," Blitzø said. "Is it some kinda new kink you haven't mentioned?" Stolas let out a laugh, the most genuine one Blitzø had heard in a while as he buried his face in Blitzø's shoulder, shaking his head.

Blitzø smiled, another victory he could focus on, but there was still a lingering thought that nagged at the back of his mind.

Maybe time was passing, but Blitzø had never been the patient type. He found himself glancing at the journal again. He had an idea now, one that was reckless and dumb-as-shit, for sure, but if there was even a slim chance he could force that future where Stolas was happy to come sooner, then fuck it, it was worth a shot. 

And if anyone was an expert at making things come sooner, it was Blitzø, especially when Stolas was involved.

As Blitzø threw a leg over Stolas’ balcony, or what used to be his balcony before those evil dick-stains stole it from him, he realized something. 

This whole shitty rollercoaster started with Blitzø breaking into this place to steal Stolas’ book, and now he was breaking in again to plant one of Stolas’ books. Talk about full fucking circle. 

“Shit!” he cursed, boot slipping on the icy railing. Just like the last time he was here, the palace was covered in ice and snow. He waved his arms to try and find his balance, but ended up falling face-first onto the very solid balcony floor. “Ow,” he groaned, cheek squished into the cold marble.

So much for a clean breaking-and-entering. Hopefully those rich fucks were too busy eating poached vole or getting facials or whatever-the-fuck they did to fill their shitty days to notice. He got up, smoothing out his long black coat. Then he quietly crept over to one of the windows to Stolas’ bedroom, peeking through the glass. 

The room was dark. It didn’t look like anyone was inside, but it was hard to tell. He’d decided to wait to sneak in until it was late, so the best-case scenario was that they weren’t doing any typical rich-bitch activities at all, but were all asleep in other rooms. He tip-toed over to the balcony door and slowly opened it up a crack, slipping into the room and closing the door just as carefully behind him. 

It made him feel sentimental, thinking about all the other times he came into (and in) Stolas’ room for their little dick appointments. Big dick appointments, since it was Blitzø’s dick Stolas had been enjoying. He grinned, slinking across the room as he reminisced. Then he froze when he heard a loud snore. 

Fuck. The ex-wife was sleeping in here. He glanced over at the bed and watched as Stella turned over, mumbling something under her breath and then continuing to snore. Damn, he didn’t know how Stolas managed to sleep next to her for so long. She sounded like a power drill getting fucked by a construction worker. Or a construction worker getting fucked by a power drill? Blitzø thought about it. How would it feel to get fucked by a power drill? Under the right circumstances, maybe it wouldn’t be that bad…he shook his head. He needed to focus. He'd think about it later.

He continued to step lightly across the room until he reached the door, opening it and slipping into the hallway. Then he leaned against the wall, letting out an exhale. 

Great. Step one done. He looked up and down the hall. Now where was Octavia’s room? He held his arms to his chest as he considered which direction to start looking in, shivering where he stood as he glanced around at the ice-covered walls. Damn, these bitches really lived like this? It was fucking arctic in here, and he knew from experience. The only thing missing were the slur-slinging birds. 

‘Although’, he wondered, looking back at the door to Stolas’ bedroom, ‘I probably would’ve heard a few if I’d woken that bitch up.’

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t tempted to go back in and shoot her, and then go for that cockbag peacock. But then he’d definitely get executed this time, and that’d be a waste of Stolas’ sacrifice. And Loona and M&M would probably be pissed. So he decided to turn left and go down the hallway. He needed to start the search somewhere. He just hoped he could get this done quick, before Stolas or Loona realized he was gone.

“You have to be fucking kidding me,” he grumbled, his patience wearing thin as he continued to creep through his maze of a palace. So much for getting this shit done fast. Who needed so many random-ass rooms? And why did it have to be so fucking cold? For the aesthetics? If that was the case, that had to be one of the dumbest ideas in all of Hell. But he wouldn’t put it past that prissy peacock, emphasis on cock. And you know what? Emphasis on pea, too, because that asshole definitely had an itty-bitty micro hidden under his stupid blue outfit. Actually, he'd have a cloaca too, wouldn't he? Whatever. If he did have a dick, it'd be small. 

Seeing all the dead plants shoved into random corners pissed him off too, because he knew they were Stolas’. That nerd loved plants. They really didn’t have the decency to at least keep them alive after taking everything from him? Pricks. He poked his head into another dimly lit room, expecting another dead end, but then his eyes widened as he looked around. 

There was a half-made bed covered in pillows and blankets that were different shades of purple. On the ceiling was a large circle filled with glowing constellations. There were shelves filled with books, a telescope by the window, and a half-covered portrait of Stolas and a younger Octavia. This had to be her bedroom, and it looked empty.

He stepped inside, pulling Stolas’ journal out from where he’d stashed it in his coat, having changed into his work outfit.

Swiping the journal had been easy. Stolas left it on the side table next to the couch, so all Blitzø had to do was wait for the bird to fall asleep. That and make sure he didn’t fall asleep himself as he curled up in his bean bag. Stolas had tried more than once to convince Blitzø to take the couch, but Blitzø stubbornly refused each time.

Tonight he gave Stolas, fast asleep, a kiss on the forehead before he left. It was something he found himself doing most nights when Stolas fell asleep before him. And this time he couldn’t help but linger, watching the steady rise and fall of Stolas’ chest as he breathed, moving to tuck the blanket under his chin. There were times when Blitzø was tempted to suggest that they share the couch, but he’d bit his tongue each time. 

Because he wasn’t sure what they were at this point. Stolas had confessed to him, but that was before all this shit went down. Stolas kissed him during their fight with his shitty brother-in-law, but they hadn’t done anything like that since. They danced together on Blitzø’s fire escape, but friends could do that too, right?

Stolas had looked down at Blitzø’s lips and caught Blitzø looking, too. But did that mean Stolas wanted Blitzø to kiss him? The timing didn’t feel right, though, so he ended up hugging Stolas instead. There was just too much going on. Stolas had enough shit to deal with. 

So yeah, Blitzø had no fucking idea what to do - about his feelings, about Stolas’ feelings, if he still even had feelings for Blitzø - and that was all an understatement. But he hoped that maybe, if Octavia would just read Stolas’ letters, then he could at least resolve this. He could get the two of them reconcile now, instead of hoping for the best in a hundred years.

He just needed to find the best place to put this so Octavia would find it before anyone else. The last thing he wanted was for Team Rocket to come across Stolas’ journal full of his deepest thoughts and regrets. 

It was then that he noticed the light pouring out of Octavia’s closet, the door open just enough for him to see a box labeled ‘Stolas’. Curious, he made his way over to the closet, stepping inside and closing the door behind him with his tail.

He knelt down to open the box, eyes widening slightly as he looked through photos of Octavia and Stolas. They looked…happy. There were childlike drawings, too. He picked up one of Octavia and Stolas holding hands and smiling. His heart clenched painfully. This was his fault. If it wasn’t for him, they’d still be together and happy. Was his life really worth their unhappiness? He wasn’t sure.

He closed the box, opening Stolas’ journal. He needed to find the perfect page to keep it open to, to make sure that Octavia read at least some of Stolas’ words. His eyes started scanning the page, slowly reading through Stolas’ neat, fancy cursive. It was a struggle, a lot of it looking like random squiggly symbols, but he managed. As he read, though, his brow furrowed in confusion.

‘He placed the cold towel on his lover’s forehead, reaching to hold his hand. His lover’s eyes were scrunched closed, a downturn to his lips and a feverish flush on his face. The prince wished that he could bear this sickness for him, so that his lover did not have to encounter any pain, any discomfort. And yet, a selfish part of him was happy that he could be the one to take care of his lover, after being the one who was taken care of time and time again. 

He wanted to hold him in his arms, to kiss him, to have their breaths mingle together, but he had to resist that temptation and wait for his lover to get better. And there were conversations to be had as well. There was still so much that was unspoken between them, secrets he knew his lover was hiding. He only wished that one day, his lover would confide in him. It was then that his lover opened his eyes, staring up at the prince. Even with a fever and sickly complexion, he was so captivating. Like a bright, red star.

‘I want to kiss you,’ his lover breathed. The prince’s eyes widened slightly. ‘Will you become sick if I do?’ The prince hesitated, and then shook his head. 

‘I do not get sick easily, due to my powers, but -’ before he could speak further, urge his lover to save his energy, his lover pulled the prince’s face towards his, capturing his beak into a heated kiss, and soon he felt as if he had a fever of his own, a fever in his heart…’

“Christ on a stick,” Blitzø said, shaking his head, although a smile tugged at his lips. He remembered throwing that red-headed prude out his office window for insulting Stolas’ writing. Sure, he was a horny bird who wrote cringey erotica, but he was Blitzø’s horny bird, and he could write whatever made-up story he wanted. 

But he doubted Octavia would appreciate this page being the first thing she saw, so he continued to flip through the pages until his eyes landed on the words, ‘My Precious Starfire’. This was a long letter, taking up multiple pages. He didn’t read it - these words were meant for her, not Blitzø - so he set the opened journal down on top of the box he’d just looked through. Then his eyes roamed around the closet. The box was in the middle of it, so he hoped putting the journal here would be easy enough for Octavia to spot, but hidden enough that a rando wouldn’t find it. Then he noticed something familiar.

He walked over to one of the shelves, pulling out the grimoire. He looked down at the blue and gold cover, tracing his finger along the curve of the moon. Then he opened it, flipping through the pages like he did with the journal, although there wasn’t anything specific he was looking for. 

He thought back to when he first stole this thing. Then he remembered his conversation with Stolas on the fire escape earlier today. If Stolas could go back in time, he’d want to go back to before they made that deal. Blitzø wondered what he’d do if he went back to that time.

Maybe he’d never break into the palace in the first place. Maybe he would’ve reached out to Fizz instead, reconciled with him sooner, and then eventually he could’ve gotten a crystal from Ozzie. That way, he wouldn’t have broken the law, broken Stolas’ heart, and stole his entire life from him. If he’d done all that, maybe Stolas would be happy now.

Blitzø stopped flipping through the pages. He sighed, squeezing his eyes shut as he pressed the open book against his forehead. So many ‘what ifs’ and yet he could do fuck-all about anything.

But if he could do something, he’d jump at the chance, and he’d make sure not to fuck it up like he usually did. Suddenly his face began to feel warm, and he was hit with a strange sense of vertigo.

“The fuck?” he opened his eyes and pulled the grimoire away from his face, looking around. Something suddenly felt off, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. The closet seemed warmer, the icy chill gone. Or did he just get used to it? Did the closet get rearranged, too? He glanced over at the box he’d just rummaged through, and his eyes widened when he realized it wasn’t there. Stolas’ journal wasn’t there either. What the fuck was going on?

He looked down at the grimoire, which was still open to a random page. He noticed a picture of some random curvy thing, but couldn’t make sense of it. He snapped the book closed, shoving it into his coat. 

Before he could investigate more, the door suddenly swung open, daylight pouring into the closet. Daylight? Wasn’t it the middle of the night? He looked up to see Octavia looking down at him, wearing purple pajamas with little yellow stars on them. Her surprised eyes quickly narrowed in suspicion. Blitzø blinked at her, completely caught off guard. He wasn’t supposed to get caught.

“Shit, yeah, so I have a really good reason why I’m -” Blitzø began, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Who the fuck are you?” she interrupted. Blitzø furrowed his brow in confusion. Then he let out an awkward laugh, crossing his arms and leaning his weight on one hip.

“Is this a new joke the teens are doing these days?” he asked with a grin. “Sure, okay, I’ll play along. I’m your Dad’s…” he was about to say boyfriend, but was he Stolas’ boyfriend? They hadn’t talked about it. Everything was still so up in the air and vague-as-shit between them. 

Then he noticed the complete lack of recognition in Octavia’s eyes. Did she suddenly become an incredible actress, or was this not a joke? The fuck? 

“Are you okay, sweetie?” he pivoted, trying to figure out what was going on here. “Did you hit your head or something?” Then his eyes widened further as a thought occurred to him. Did those two crazy assholes put some memory-wiping spell on her? 

Before he could ask, Octavia slammed the closet door shut, something heavy quickly sliding across the floor outside. Fuck. He lunged to the handle, twisting it hard and throwing his body against the door, but it wouldn’t budge. He was barricaded in. 

“Wait!” he pounded on the door. “I can explain!” But there was no answer. “Shit.” He looked around for something he could use to break himself out. His hand hovered over his holster. Should he shoot his way out?

“Wait,” he said to no one, smacking his forehead. He was being a dumbass. He lifted his wrist, looking down at his amber-colored crystal. He couldn’t help but grimace. He really fucked up. He lost Stolas’ journal, and now Octavia probably thought he was a creepy dickhead - or, at least, more than she already did.

But at least he could get back to his apartment and try to fix things from there, before tweedle-fuck and tweedle-fucker appeared. He just hoped Stolas wouldn’t be pissed at him, or worse, disappointed. He hastily rubbed the crystal as he tried to calm his racing thoughts. 

Those racing thoughts were really fucking him in his ‘a’, though, because he was struggling to get a portal open. He needed to calm down and focus. One thing atta time. He stopped to take a deep breath, but before he could get to rubbing again - or should he get to licking? - the closet door opened.

“I can explain everything!” Blitzø said quickly, holding his hands out and bracing himself for a magic blast. He just hoped it wasn’t cold. But no blast of magic came. He quickly looked up to see Stolas staring down at him instead, standing in the closet with him. 

He furrowed his brow in confusion. What the fuck was going on? Why was Stolas here? How was he here? Did he break in, too? Did he wake up, notice his journal was gone, figure out what Blitzø was up to, and chase after him? But no, some things weren’t adding up. 

First off, Stolas was wearing his dark red robe, looking like it’d been hastily thrown on. Wasn’t he wearing those pajamas Blitzø got him when he left the apartment? And something about Stolas’ expression really threw him. Like Octavia, there was a lack of recognition on his face that filled Blitzø with a creeping sense of dread, a growing feeling that things weren’t just not adding up, but were wrong, really wrong. 

He searched Stolas’ four, glowing ruby eyes as if he’d find some explanation in them, but they continued to blink back at him, equally as bewildered as he was.

Wait. 

“Your pupils…” Blitzø finally noticed. Or, really, he noticed the lack of them. Why…how…?

“He mentioned you,” Octavia explained. She was standing behind Stolas, peeking around his shoulder to look down at Blitzø, suspicion still obvious on her face. “Do you know him, Dad?” 

“I’m not quite sure, princess,” Stolas said, a slight furrow to his brow. “He certainly seems familiar, but I am struggling to place where I’ve met this imp before.” Blitzø’s jaw dropped, completely dumbfounded.

Was this some kinda fucking joke? Did someone put a memory wiping spell on Stolas, too? Or was he being punk’d, and Satan himself was about to pop in from the fucking window with a camera and tell him the last few months were part of some shitty prank?

“Oh, I know!” Stolas said suddenly, snapping his fingers. “You’re that funny little imp that played with me when we were children!” His expression brightened, clearly delighted by his discovery. Then he furrowed his brow again. “But, um, what brings you to my daughter’s closet?” As Blitzø looked up at Stolas, lips parted in surprise and eyes wide as he struggled to come up with a response, there was one thought at the very front of his mind:

This wasn’t a joke or a prank. Whatever this was, something got really fucked up. Big time. And he had a feeling that, like always, it was his fault.

Chapter Text

Blitzø had to make a decision here and fast. Usually he was the tits at getting out of a jam, but it’s like someone dropped brick on his brain and cooked it because he just kept opening and closing his mouth like a dumbass. He blamed Stolas’ sweet, polite smile. And the way Octavia was holding onto her dad’s arm as she stood behind him, as if their fight never happened.

Blitzø had always been the type to spring into action, especially under pressure. So what the fuck was wrong with him? Right. He already knew what.

He didn’t want to shatter this relative, unexpected peace between Stolas and his daughter by freaking out and demanding to know what in Satan’s dickhole was going on.

It was a feeling he wasn’t used to, not leaning into his own instincts. His instincts were what’ve kept him alive this long, kept him moving: moving on, moving away, on a good day, moving towards. But those same instincts had a track record of hurting the people he cared about. Stolas included. So he was trying to work at it.

“Did you come here to visit?” Stolas suggested when he didn’t get a reply.

“No!” Blitzø blurted out, squirming under those inquisitive ruby eyes. He really hadn’t planned on getting caught. This was supposed to be as easy as sin. He was gonna be in and out so fast that if this palace was his bitch it’d wonder if he’d even gotten a stroke in.

But he should’ve known - when was anything ever simple for him? And when did a quickie in this place not turn into an all-night kinda deal?

“I tooootally wasn’t trying to break into this place,” Blitzø added. Okay, maybe he was laying it on a little too thick. But his back was literally against a wall here. Three walls, since he was in a fucking closet! It’s not like he had all the time in the world to come up with the perfect response. And sure, he was trying to fight against his more destructive instincts, to think before he spoke, but hey, Rome wasn’t built in a day or whatever. Did he know where or what Rome was? Fuuuuuck no. But he remembered Stolas saying that a few times, so eventually he picked it up from him. It was probably some reference only nerds knew. Stolas tried to explain it to him once, but he could only blink at him and nod, distracted by the pretty warble in his voice, the way he gestured with his hands, the curve of his smile.

Wait. He was getting distracted.

And that distraction was costing him. He noticed as Stolas’ expression began to match Octavia’s, his curiosity slowly shifting into suspicion. Shit. He didn’t want to get on his bird’s bad side. It was then that he made a decision. Fuck it, why not play along with whatever the hell was going on? At least as he tried to figure it out for himself.

‘Time for daddy to do some good fucking acting,’ he thought, getting into character. He wondered what Fizz would do. He was a natural at this kinda shit - letting someone’s guard down, improvising, charming fuckers. Then an idea occurred to him.

“Uhhh, I mean, you bet that tight ass I came for you!”

“My tight – came for -?” Stolas began slowly, bewildered.

“I didn’t just swing by for a visit, though. I’m your clown for the day!” Blitzø quickly interrupted, and Stolas’ eyes widened another fraction. Octavia’s looked less than thrilled. Okay, actually fuck this idea. Why’d he go with clown? Whatever. If he was gonna try and act like Fizz, he might as well put the whole nine yards in this bitch.

“Is this my father’s doing? Like the last time?” Stolas asked, blinking at him innocently, his budding suspicion withering. Which was great for Blitzø right now, but he really needed to teach his bird to be less gullible.

“Er, yeah, let’s go with that!” Blitzø said. “I’m supposed to, uh…entertain you for your birthday. What’s a birthday without a clown, amirite?” Blitzø personally despised the idea of birthday clowns. He’d had a brief stint as a clown performing at parties for snot-nosed brats at Loo Loo Land. Those little shit-stains made him want to shoot his brains out more than when he had to push around that fuck-ass cart and watch the Robo-Fizz freakshow perform. And that was saying something.

He still didn’t understand what Fizz ever loved about being a clown. It was all-around such a shitty gig, and with Mammon as his employer, it had to have been extra shitty. At least he finally dropped that overblown green bitch.

He bet Fizz would be rolling around on the floor laughing if he was here now. Clown-for-a-day. Fuuuuuuuuck. What’d he get himself into?

“But your birthday already passed, Dad,” Octavia observed, looking at Stolas. Shit. Blitzø rocked on his heels as he tried to come up with some excuse. He knew he was starting to sweat, but his pride wouldn’t allow him to be caught in a lie so soon, even if his bullshit stank.

“Heh, yeah…aaaaand this was meant to be a surprise! No one expects a birthday surprise not on their birthday,” Blitzø explained. Stolas nodded, following the logic, and Blitzø grinned, putting his hands on his hips. Nailed it. “And that’s why the big king himself made a portal and stuck me in here, so it’d be extra surprising. Your jaws were basically on the fucking floor, so it worked, yeah?” 

“Yes, I was very surprised to find some random imp in my bedroom closet this morning,” Octavia agreed flatly. “I assumed you were a peeping dickbag.” From her tone, Blitzø had a feeling she still thought that was the case.

“Language, princess!” Stolas chided. “Although, this is the last place I would expect a birthday surprise meant for me,” he agreed. “Perhaps I should call my father…”

“He’s busy!” Blitzø said, throwing his hands out. “And I’m on the clock, so how ‘bout you let me do my job, and you can catch up with your old man later.” He shot them finger guns, flashing Stolas his most charming smile.

“Oh? Well...okay,” Stolas said. “I should get his money’s worth, I suppose,” he reasoned with a smile. “What is your rate these days…um…” he frowned. “I seemed to have forgotten your name. Did it start with a ‘B’?” 

Damn. Now that hurt more than Blitzø expected it to. He rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a weak laugh.

“It’s Blitzø.” Stolas pinched his brows together.

“Didn’t it - ?” he began, and Blitzø was suddenly reminded of the conversation they had back when Blitzø was trying to steal the grimoire. 

‘Didn’t it have an ‘o’ at the end? Like a clown name?’

“There used to be an ‘o’ at the end, but it’s silent now,” Blitzø answered before the bird could finish.

“Ah, I see. How fun!” Stolas said, that polite smile still on his lips. He clasped his hands in front of him, seeming to squirm under Blitzø’s gaze. Why’d he look nervous? “If I made the ‘o’ in my name silent, then it would be ‘Stlas’.” He sounded like some kinda shitty snake charmer as he said that last part, tongue peeking out of his beak. “Quite a silly name. And not a very good one.” He paused, eyes widening slightly. “But Blitzø is great-”

Blitzø let out a laugh, fondness filling his chest. His bird was such a random dork. He loved it. 

“Dad, you’re being weird,” Octavia complained. “Can you two get out of my room now?” 

“R-right, of course sweetie,” Stolas said, giving her arm a gentle squeeze as he smiled at her. He adjusted the collar of his robe so it wasn’t falling off his shoulders, and then he looked back at Blitzø. “Follow me.” He was suddenly all-business as he left the closet and made his way towards the bedroom door. Blitzø was caught off guard for a second, but quickly headed after him. He glanced at Octavia, who watched him as he passed her, looking like she could clearly see through his bullshit, but was deciding when to call him out on it. Before she could make up her mind he scampered out of the room and followed after Stolas, trying to keep up with that lanky-ass bird stride. 

When he was halfway down the hallway he remembered he’d stashed the grimoire in his coat. Probably a good thing that neither of them noticed. He wasn’t sure how he’d explain having it. He thought back to that strange, curvy drawing he saw right before shit went ass-backwards and sideways. Deciding to trust his instincts one more time, even though that just landed him as a fuck-ass clown – hey, old habits die hard, and he preferred it hard – he quickly rubbed one out on his crystal while Stolas was at the other end of the hall, opening a diamond-shaped portal to his apartment. The portal was right next to his beat-up couch, so he quickly shoved the grimoire under the cushion and closed the portal.

Stolas turned his head to face him a fraction of a second later, shooting him a curious look that made Blitzø’s spikes stand on end, since the rest of Stolas’ body was still facing the other way. Fuckin’ owls. It was an awesome trick in the bedroom, though. He knew that from experience. Blitzø watched as Stolas glanced around the hall, as if he sensed magic that wasn’t his. But when he saw nothing, his gaze landed on Blitzø again.

“Coming?” he asked, stopped at the end of the hall. Blitzø couldn’t resist a grin.

“I’ll come anywhere with you, princey,” he replied easily, running to catch up with him. He wasn’t sure if Stolas caught his drift, though, because he quickly turned his head the right way, nodded, and kept walking.

Blitzø kept pace with him, finding it hard to take his eyes off this bird who felt so familiar, but so strange, and somehow familiar in another way. He couldn’t put his finger on it. “Soooo the last time you remember seeing me was…?” Blitzø decided to ask, wanting to confirm what he already guessed was the case. 

“Lucifer, I think it has been…what? 25 years?” Stolas answered. He turned a corner and Blitzø continued to follow, walking quickly so they were still side-by-side. “What have you been up to these past two decades?” Stolas asked, glancing down at him as they continued to walk. “Do you typically go to demons’ residences and put on little clown performances?” He wiggled his fingers at him.

“Nope. You’re my first and only,” Blitzø said, shooting him a wink. He caught the pink bloom in Stolas’ cheeks. He couldn’t help but appreciate how easy they were to clock, stark against those pretty white feathers.

“I’m not sure if I should be flattered, or question if you are all that good at your job.”

“Hey! I’m amazing at my job, bitch, thank you very much. It ain’t clowning, though, to be clear. I hit and quit that bitch of a business ages ago. This is just a one-time gig. Nowadays my job’s killin’ people.”

It felt weird explaining all this to Stolas again, under veeery different circumstances. He was still trying to piece together what exactly was going on. His running theory was that this was some stupid-ass hallucination like the one he had in that government facility. How he got drugged up who-the-fuck knew. Part of the palace’s new security system? Rich fucks could afford the wildest shit.

Or he hit his head too hard on the balcony floor when he ate shit, and this was all some sorta dream. Or this could be some crazy memory loss spell. But then how was Stolas suddenly back here in this palace like that fucked-up trial never happened? Like him and Blitzø never happened? He’d just left him on his couch a few hours ago. He shook his head. He was getting nowhere coming up with all these hypotheticals. He wasn’t the type to ‘what if what if what if’. His preferred M.O. was ‘react first, think later’. But he was trying to build Rome here, so maybe thinking first wouldn't kill him.

He was about to ask Stolas what he remembered doing last night. That was somewhere to start, at least. But Stolas was no longer there. He stopped walking, and when he turned around he saw Stolas standing in the middle of the hallway a few paces behind, a surprised look on his face. The fuck? Did the bird short-circuit or something? As he thought through what could be causing Stolas to act like he’d just been called a random slur, he realized what he’d just said about killing people for a living. Riiiiiight.

“I’m not here to kill you!” Blitzø promised, all four of Stolas’ eyes still wide and still pupilless. “If that’s what got you all frozen up.” He paused. “I’d recommend choosing fight or flight next time ya think someone’s about to assassinate you, though, instead of standing in the middle of the hallway with your dick in your hands. Or cloaca, I guess.”

“Well, that is certainly a relief,” Stolas said, his shoulders relaxing slightly. Then he smirked. “Although, I highly doubt that I would have needed to fly or fight, even if you were trying to kill me. You would be hard-pressed to try and kill a Geotic prince.” Blitzø noticed him fan out his tail proudly. “You would need -”

“A blessed weapon,” Blitzø said grimly, remembering that fuck-face cowboy. He'd seen the scar on Stolas' shoulder for himself, when he gave him a bath. He still felt like a useless dipshit for letting that happen to him.

“Oh, so you already knew that,” Stolas said, smirk falling and tail suddenly limp as he wrung his hands nervously. The collar of his red robe was slipping off his shoulder in a way that was extremely distracting. “But, to be clear, you’re not trying to kill me?” He let out a nervous laugh before Blitzø could respond. “Why am I even asking you, as if you would tell me the truth if you were -”

“Don’t sweat it, princey. I really am here to be a clown or whatever-the-fuck you want me to be,” Blitzø assured him, waggling his eyebrows. “Let me prove it to ya. Have any clown shit on you?”

“Clown…shit?” Stolas asked. “Is that a euphemism?” Blitzø rolled his eyes, walking up to him.

“Ya know, clown stuff…like, I dunno, bowling pins or a unicycle or big-ass shoes -” Stolas’ expression lit up, and Blitzø suddenly regretted giving him ideas.

“I have just the thing!” Blitzø watched as Stolas opened up a small portal, reaching his arm inside and pulling out a plastic bag full of uninflated balloons. Blitzø’s eyes widened in surprise.

He’d figured since Stolas’ eyes were all glowy and pupilless again he had his powers back, but now he knew for sure. Before he could consider what that meant, and before he could ask where the fuck he even got these random-ass children’s party balloons from, Stolas tossed the bag over to him and he scrambled to catch it.

“What about a balloon animal? Certainly that falls under the ‘clown shit’ umbrella, yes?”

Fuck. Blitzø was dogshit at balloon animals. Eh, it was worth a shot, especially if it’d convince Stolas he wasn’t here to assassinate him. Whatever he’d gotten himself into – drugs or magic or whatever-the-hell else could happen to an imp with shit luck like him - he at least wanted to show this Stolas a good-ass time. And to remind his bird how fun he was.

He pulled a red balloon from the bag, handing the bag back to Stolas, who was practically bouncing with excitement. Blitzø scoffed, fondness filling his chest again. He started blowing air into the balloon. 

“What kinda animal are you looking for?” he stopped to ask, pinching the opening of the now half-inflated balloon with his fingers. 

“You’re letting me choose?” Stolas asked. He frowned, tapping a talon to his chin. “I guess…but no, or..?” he paused, looking nervous all of a sudden, wringing his hands again. “H-how about you decide?” he suggested after stumbling over his words, hands pressed together now and gesturing to Blitzø. Blitzø raised a brow.

“That hard to pick one?” Stolas let out a nervous laugh.

“I would hate to make the wrong choice…”

“If you picked an animal I knew fuck-all how to do I’d tell ya,” Blitzø said with a shrug. Then he thought about it. “Guess it doesn’t matter what you pick. It’ll probably end up being a worm-horse any way you twist it. I’m the tits at making worm horses, but shit at basically anything else.” He finished blowing up the balloon, expertly tying it off. “So manage your expectations, princey.” Stolas laughed behind his hand, a more relaxed one this time.

“I have a vague recollection of seeing one of your ‘worses’ myself when I visited the circus all those years ago. It was quite hilarious.”

“And that’s really the last time you saw me?” Blitzø couldn’t help but ask. It didn’t sit right with him that Stolas was looking at him like he was basically a stranger. He was really hoping that this was a hallucination, because he wasn’t sure what he’d do if Stolas really had forgotten him.

“No, that wasn’t the last time,” Stolas said, and Blitzø felt a spark of hope. “The last time was when you left the palace at the end of the day, remember?” Blitzø’s smile fell.

“Right. Duh.” Stolas seemed to notice his deflation.

“Don't feel badly for forgetting! It’s been a long time, so I wouldn’t expect you to remember it all. I just have a very good memory,” he explained, giving him another polite smile. Blitzø scoffed, then got to twisting this long, red balloon into something ideally resembling an animal.

“If by ‘good’ you mean shit,” he mumbled under his breath. He shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up that Stolas remembered him. More than being some random hired playmate for a day, that is. 

“What did you say?” Stolas asked, watching as Blitzø twisted and turned the balloon haphazardly. Blitzø noticed the bird’s curious expression and flashed him a grin.

“I said this’s gonna be a hit!” He held out the balloon. “Check it, bitch.” They both looked down at it. He’d managed to twist two balls at the end. The rest of it was still giving ‘worm’. Honestly, it looked terrible, but he was rusty! Fucking sue him. Actually don’t. He knew dick about lawyers. Or the law, in general. The last time Moxxie heard the word ‘sue’ in the office he had a full-blown aneurysm, mumbling something about forms and numbers as Millie tried to shake him back to consciousness and Loona took photos. So Blitzø had a feeling getting sued was balls-to-the-wall bad.

But surely Stolas would cut him some slack for his shitty balloon skills, right? He used to have this bitch wrapped around his finger, especially the first time they fucked (heh, Stolas was wrapped around his whole fist at one point) so he was fully expecting this weird version of Stolas to clap his hands and call him amazing. 

“It looks…”

“Yeah?” Blitzø pressed, grinning up at him. “Fucking rad? Like a work of art?” Hell, he’d even go for ‘cute’. 

“Like a massive penis,” Stolas finished. Blitzø let out a noise of protest, looking down at it. Then he looked at the two balls again, and the long…yeah, that definitely looked like a red shaft. 

“Okay, sure. It looks like a dick. But not a massive one. I’d say it’s average-sized, at least based on what I got packin’,” he said stubbornly, holding the balloon to his crotch for reference and looking back up at Stolas. Stolas raised his brows, a pretty flush back on those white cheeks.

“I-is that so? Your poor lower back.” Blitzø let out a surprised laugh. At least his bird didn’t forget his sense of humor. It’d been touch-and-go until now, based on his reactions to Blitzø’s jokes so far.  

“The only lower backs your pretty head should worry about are my exes,” he assured him. “But I haven’t gotten complaints in that department. The opposite, actually,” he added, giving Stolas a wink. He watched the flush continue to rise in Stolas’ cheeks, the bob in his throat as he swallowed thickly, looking down at the balloon still pressed against Blitzø’s crotch. Blitzø grinned. 

He’d gotten a fuck-ton of compliments about his dick in the past, especially from Stolas. It really fed his ego. And Stolas’ was his favorite back to wear out - long and responsive and covered in soft feathers. And so damn flexible -

“W-well, you have certainly proven yourself with your…avant garde clownery,” Stolas noted, clasping his hands together. “Maybe you aren’t here to kill me after all.” He started walking past him, continuing down the hallway. Blitzø watched him move on, confused.

Stolas used to be putty in his hands. Even when he was being stubborn and petty-as-fuck, there was still this gravity pulling them towards each other. So why did this Stolas feel so…distant? Hard to read? Hot-and-cold in a way that Blitzø wasn’t used to? And what the fuck did ‘avant garde’ mean? Was that an insult? He shook his head, following after him again. 

It was then that he finally began to notice the lack of ice. The plants weren’t dead, either, but happily wiggling. And there were small imps in fancy outfits scurrying around, holding feather dusters or baskets of laundry or whatever-the-fuck. Some of them shot Blitzø curious looks, but most avoided eye contact with him and Stolas entirely.

Octavia’s closet had changed, the hallway was different, and since it was morning, hours had passed without Blitzø realizing. Drug trip was beginning to pull ahead of memory loss. Everything was too different. But also…eerily familiar.

Soon they made it to Stolas’ bathroom, an imp attendant opening the door and Stolas heading swiftly inside. Blitzø had been wondering where Stolas was taking him. As the door closed behind them - the imp sneaking a glance at Blitzø before disappearing from view - he looked around at the dark purple curtains, the shifting constellations, and the candles fused along the rim of the fancy-ass purple and gold bathtub. This at least seemed the same. He’d been here a few times before.

He watched as Stolas glided over to where his outfits were hanging, searching through them. Then his hands froze. He looked through them again, then stopped to pinch the top of his beak, looking frustrated.

“Of all the days,” he mumbled to himself, shaking his head.

“Something the matter, princey?” Blitzø asked, hoisting himself up on the tall-ass vanity and kicking his legs. He was still holding the dick balloon in one hand. “Forgot it’s laundry day? I dig the slutty robe look, personally, so don’t change on my account,” he teased. Stolas scoffed, and then Blitzø noticed large black stains on the clothes he could see from the rack. He raised a brow. “One of your fancy ink pens bust a nut or something?” Stolas sighed. He waved his hand, and a blue glow surrounded his outfits. Blitzø watched as the black stains began to disappear, until it was like they were never there in the first place.

“It's like she forgets I have magic,” Stolas mumbled, clearly exasperated. Blitzø furrowed his brow in confusion, not following. But before he could ask, Stolas let out another slow exhale, relaxing his shoulders. “It is no matter. Just a minor inconvenience that is now solved.” He rested a hand on one of his outfits, and then he stopped, robe slipping off of one shoulder again. He looked over his shoulder at Blitzø.

“Would you mind averting your gaze?” Stolas asked, bashful all of a sudden. Blitzø raised a brow. He’d been in and around this bitch’s cloaca more times than he could count, and now the bird was too embarrassed to let Blitzø watch him undress? It’s not like his robe left much to the imagination, much to Blitzø’s appreciation.

He pinched himself, but nothing changed. This felt too real, very unlike a drug-trip, at least based off the ones he’d had before. But if this was real…no. He didn’t want to think about how fucked he’d be if that was true. This definitely wasn’t real. His subconscious was probably in the mood for some edging, that’s all.

Spending time with a Stolas he hadn’t managed to seduce yet was pretty hot. And he could never resist a challenge. He hopped off of the vanity.

“Good on ya. Someone like you should never put on a show for free,” he said, giving Stolas a teasing bow and dutifully covering his eyes. The balls of his dick balloon dragged across the floor as he turned around for good measure.

“Someone like me?” Stolas asked, and Blitzø could hear the rustling of clothes. Fuck, this was making his imagination run wild. He began to tap his boot against the floor, trying to distract himself from all this pent up wanting.

“Yeah, someone hot,” Blitzø said with a shrug. The rusting of clothes suddenly stopped. Did he hear a choking noise?

“Me?” Stolas squawked. “I - oh - I hardly think...surely you must be -” he began, stumbling over his words. Then he let out an awkward laugh. “Wait, I understand. That was one of your little clown jokes. Quite amusing!”

“One of my…?” Blitzø began, not following. Did Stolas think he was fucking joking? And something about ‘little clown jokes’ rubbed him the wrong way, which only irritated him more, since all he could think about was rubbing Stolas the right way. The things they could do in that big bathtub -

He said he was sent here to entertain Stolas all day, but he never specified what kind of entertaining he’d do. Surely Stolas wouldn’t say no to a good dicking-down, right? He really missed making that pretty bird screech –

Pop!

Blitzø quickly dropped the hand covering his eyes, looking down at his other, now empty hand. Pieces of red latex littered the floor. 

“Oh my!” Stolas said, reacting to the sudden sound. Blitzø turned to see Stolas looking at the remains of the balloon with wide, pupilless eyes. He was wearing his usual - well, not so usual now - royal outfit. It was the cute red romper number, except he hadn’t done up the buttons yet, so Blitzø could see his chest feathers and more peeking out. He was struck by the intense urge to shove his face in them, knowing just how soft that spot was. He clenched his hands into fists.

“W-whoops,” he said, swallowing as he tried to ignore his horny thoughts. He tore his eyes away from Stolas’ chest, lifting his gaze upwards to see the bird continue to blink at him, startled. Then Blitzø let out a weak laugh. “Usually I get more of a positive reaction when my dick busts,” he joked, then immediately cringed at how fucking stupid that sounded.

He watched as Stolas covered his mouth with the back of his wrist, then quickly turned his back to Blitzø, facing the outfits that were still hung up in a neat row. Blitzø’s heart sunk. This Stolas hated him. Were the bird’s shoulders shaking? Was he crying? Fuck.

“Shit, can we start over? I keep being a dumbass and -” he began, taking a step towards Stolas. But then he stopped, eyes widening a fraction.

“You’re t-too much,” Stolas said, gasping for air as he was doubled over in laughter. A grin spread across Blitzø’s lips. A sense of relief, too. He came to stand next to Stolas, trying to get a peek at his expression, but Stolas kept turning his back to him.

“C’mon, lemme see that pretty laugh of yours,” Blitzø urged. “Audience feedback means everything to a clown. We live offa that shit.” Stolas finally turned towards him - the bird could never deny him for long - and Blitzø’s expression slackened.

A lovely warble of a laugh was bubbling out of Stolas as he wrapped his arms around his sides, torso tilted forwards. There was a pretty flush on his downy cheeks as his eyes were squeezed shut. And the wide, open smile on that heart-shaped face – it was the kinda smile Blitzø would go into a gunfight empty-handed just to get another look at. It was the kinda smile he’d been fighting to see these past few weeks, with no success.

As if pulled by some invisible force, Blitzø found himself wrapping his tail around Stolas’ leg and taking another step closer, drinking him in. He couldn’t remember the last time he saw Stolas laugh like this. He was completely hooked. He wanted to make Stolas laugh like this again and again and again.

Then Stolas’ finally opened his eyes, wiping his tears away with his fingertips as his laughter died down. He glanced down at Blitzø’s tail wrapped around his leg, surprised, and Blitzø quickly took it away, self-consciously swishing it from side to side before letting it drop to the floor. Stolas cleared his throat, and all that was left was the ghost of a smile. He began to do up his buttons.

“I apologize,” he said. “I was doing so well up until now.” Blitzø raised a brow.

“Apologize for what? Laughing? Why wouldya need to apologize for that?”

“Such a display of emotion is unbecoming of a Goetia,” Stolas explained, smile falling completely now as his expression shifted back into something more neutral. More regal. Blitzø crossed his arms, leaning his weight on one hip. 

“But you’ve always been so -” Blitzø argued, confused, then stopped himself. Stolas had always been so expressive with him. That bitch wore his heart on his sleeve, a fact Blitzø didn’t believe was genuine at first, but eventually realized it was.

But this Stolas didn’t know that. There was no ‘always’ when it came to them. He frowned. At least he made this Stolas laugh. That counted for something, right?

No. Not really. It wasn’t good enough. Because Blitzø was greedy. That was something he’d never be able to change about himself. His whole fucking life was shaped by it. And his greed was prodding at him now, making him feel unsatisfied. One genuine laugh out of this Stolas wasn’t enough. It was like he’d just gotten his first fix after a long stretch of being stone-cold sober. Seeing Stolas happy was a fucking high, and he wanted to ride it out as long as he could.

“Oh yes, I was quite energetic when we were children,” Stolas finished for him. “But that was many years ago.”

“Right,” Blitzø said, already thinking of ways to get Stolas smiling again. “For the record, do whatever the fuck you want when you’re with me, ‘kay princey? If you’re not laughing, then I’m not doin' my job right.” Stolas let out a giggle. Fuck yeah.

“Noted. I suppose my father has allowed me this, given that he orchestrated it himself,” the bird reasoned. Blitzø furrowed his brow. Allowed to laugh? What kinda fuckery…? Then Stolas threw his cape over his shoulders, reaching over to grab his crowned hat and placing it primly on his head. He turned to face Blitzø once more, smiling down at him. 

“Soooo…how exactly are you entertaining me today, Blitzy?”

Blitzy? Now that was a throwback. Stolas hadn’t called him that in a while. And it was weird seeing him in that royal getup again after getting used to seeing him in typical, civilian clothes. 

That distance Blitzø was feeling crept back to the front of his mind. This was the untouchable, princely Stolas. No, even worse, because at least that Stolas, the one he’d known, wanted him. This Stolas – he was a fucking enigma. He didn’t seem to dislike Blitzø. He was at least amused by him. But the familiarity that existed between them after fucking so many times, after saving each other’s lives, after living together - wasn’t there. 

“Is Blitzy alright?” Stolas asked, now suddenly unsure, probably because Blitzø had been gaping at him like an idiot the past minute. He wouldn’t be shocked if this Stolas thought he had brain damage at this point. “I know the ‘o’ is silent, but I thought adding a ‘y’ as a nickname could be…fun? Like how you have been calling me ‘princey’, which I find quite amusing. I remember reading something about how friends give each other nicknames, so I assumed that maybe…” He stopped rambling and shook his head. “No, what a stupid idea. How silly of me -”

“Eh, call me whatever ya want,” Blitzø said with an easy wave of his hand. “Just don’t call me late for dinner.” He nudged Stolas’ leg with his elbow as he said that last part, giving him a grin. 

As casual as he was trying to keep it, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t caught off guard. Stolas had never asked if ‘Blitzy’ was okay before, a fact that used to piss him off. And then, just as he’d been getting used to it, Stolas had stopped calling him that entirely. Total cold turkey. Weirdly he missed it. Probably because Stolas was always so happy and enthusiastic whenever he called him that.

And he definitely hadn’t realized he’d been calling this Stolas ‘princey’ so much. He’d never used that nickname before, and he’d called Stolas a long list of creative names in the bedroom. He firmly avoided ‘royal’ territory, because he used to hate being reminded that Stolas was a prince. It made him fucking uncomfortable. And, if he was being honest, insecure.

But with this Stolas, looking like the royal bird he used to dick down on the monthly but having no clue who Blitzø was other than a decades-old play date…'princey' about summed it up in Blitzø’s mind. It was a balance between status, familiarity, and uncertainty, and Blitzø was learning how to navigate that tightrope in real time. Thank fuck acrobatics used to be his bread and butter at the circus.

“Late for dinner?” Stolas repeated. “But isn’t it closer to breakfast-time?” he asked, blinking at him. “Oh, perhaps, brunch?”

“Yeah, I know. That was meant to be a...” Blitzø trailed off, seeing Stolas’ polite confusion. Christ on a stick. He just made the kinda joke fucking Moxxie would make. He was totally blowing this, and not in the good, deep throaty, all tongue with just a little bit of beak sorta way. “Er, nevermind. Speaking of breakfast, did ya eat yet?” Stolas shook his head. 

“I assume my chef is in the process of making something in accordance with my custom diet -”

“Fuck that,” Blitzø said, putting a hand on his hip, and Stolas’ eyes widened in surprise. “We’re eating out today.” He paused. “And by that I mean I’m taking you someplace to eat. But the other kinda ‘eating out’ isn’t off the table. I just wanna make sure you get some food in ya first before we get to the real fun,” he teased, flashing Stolas a grin. He watched Stolas’ face flush red. Then he watched as the bird tugged at the fur collar of his cape, averting Blitzø’s gaze. Blitzø noticed him glance at his rack of clothes.

“I neglected to mention earlier…I d-do have a wife…” he explained, something hard-to-read in his expression. Blitzø’s smile fell. That wasn’t an issue before, when a quickie turned into an all-night affair, one that ended with him planting his ass into that bitch’s cake and running off. And besides, didn’t he drop her ages ago? But here, whereever the fuck here was, they were still together? 

Shit on a dick, was Stolas straight in this weird-ass hallucination? He tried pinching himself again, just to make sure this wasn’t actually a nightmare. No dice. He was in this for the long haul, whatever it was.

“Oh yeah?” he decided to say, trying not to make his surprise too obvious. He’d have to sus this whole ‘still married’ bullshit out later. “My bad, I was tryna make another joke,” he explained, lying through his teeth. Satan, please don’t let this bird be straight.

“Oh!” Stolas said, covering his laugh with his hand. “Right, of course. I should have gathered as much.” They stood in the bathroom for a lingering, awkward moment. “So…where should we go to eat, then? Have a place in mind? Ever been to the Richest Cup?” Blitzø frowned. 

“No, but it sounds like the kinda place where tiny little imps serve tiny little food on tiny little plates and everyone’s lifting their pinkies for some fuck-ass reason.”

“Have you become clairvoyant, too?” Stolas asked, all four ruby eyes looking surprised. Blitzø stared back at him in confusion, opening his mouth to reply, but then he caught the way Stolas was biting back his smile, a teasing glint in his eyes.

Blitzø chuckled, shaking his head while Stolas hid a laugh of his own, the awkwardness from before easing. He remembered what his Stolas had said to him on the fire escape, joking about whether Blitzø could see the future now. Maybe his Stolas and this Stolas weren’t so different. Maybe this Stolas even liked him, just a little.

“Nah, but I have a place in mind,” Blitzø answered, lifting his wrist. “And I know it’ll be the tits.” He paused, glancing at Stolas, who was looking down at the crystal with interest. Blitzø’s wrist was still lifted in the air, but he hadn’t started rubbing it yet. “Do you, uh…are tits like a, ya know, a thing you’re into?” Stolas let out a strangled hoot.

“Are y-you asking - am I into -?” he sputtered out, looking at Blitzø with wide, pupilless eyes. His face had flushed crimson again. Was that because he was scandalized by the idea of tits, or because he was turned on by the idea of them? Blitzø found himself narrowing his eyes, tracking Stolas’ expression, but when he realized he wasn’t about to get any more good information, he decided to bail. 

“Ha! Another joke! Any clown worth their shit is full of ‘em!” Blitzø said with a nervous laugh. He’d get to the bottom of this bottom eventually. Wait, what if he wasn’t a bottom either? Could Stolas be a straight top here? He shook the terrible thought away. “Gotta keep ya on your talons, princey!” he pushed on. “Now let’s get this fun train a-choo-choo-chooing!” He started desperately rubbing his crystal before Stolas could get a word in, and soon a diamond-shaped portal opened. He grabbed Stolas’ hand and pulled him along. Stolas let out a startled little squawk that quickly erupted into excited giggles, letting himself be pulled.

“O-okay! Choo choo indeed!”

Chapter Text

“This place certainly has…character.” Blitzø watched as Stolas clasped his hands together and placed them on the table, then quickly removed them, frowning and setting them down on his lap instead. “Are the tables meant to be so…sticky?”

“The stickier the better!” Blitzø assured him from the other side of the booth, giving him a wink. “That means you’re in for a good time.”

“Is that right?” Stolas mused quietly, not seeming convinced. Blitzø looked around the diner, tapping his heels against the base of his seat. This place looked and felt the same, at least. Cheap red seat cushions. Neon signs on the walls. Shiny ceramic tiles. The smell of bacon grease and cigarettes. The familiarity was making him feel more grounded and in control.  

“What’ll it be?” The waitress appeared at the table, hand on her hip as she looked between the two of them. She had brown, teased-up-to-fucking-heaven hair and a white mole below her left eye.

Shit. Right. This was the same bitch who spit in Stolas’ food. And then proceeded to jump Blitzø in the booth after he threw a plate into a very deserving asshole’s face. Of all the diners he could pick. He was such a dumbass. He’d chosen familiarity over common sense.

He was about to give some excuse about how they weren’t the same demons, just look-a-likes, even though he knew that’d be a bullshit story, but based on her blank expression she didn’t seem to recognize them at all. Maybe she looked annoyed, but that was probably because they were taking their sweet time to tell her their order.

Blitzø stole a glance at Stolas. He didn’t seem to remember her either. Okay. Noted. So unless everyone’s memory in Hell was wiped except for his, which would be batshit insane, he could officially cross ‘memory loss’ off the list.

“I will take a kale salad,” Stolas said. The waitress raised a brow.

“We don’t got that.”

“Really?” Stolas looked surprised. “Alright then, I suppose any assembly of greens will do-” The waitress rolled her eyes, shooting Blitzø a look.

“Holler at me when you’re ready to put in a real order,” she said, and walked off.

“Wow. I have never received such rude service before,” Stolas commented, a perplexed expression on his face as he watched her go. He shifted his attention to Blitzø. “Is this establishment always like this?”

“The demons here have a short fuse,” Blitzø explained, lowering his voice so the waitress couldn't hear. “But the food makes up for it.” Stolas picked up a flimsy, laminated menu, letting out a scoff as his eyes roamed the short list of options.

“I certainly hope so.”

Blitzø watched Stolas in curiosity. True to his getup, he was acting like a rich, sheltered prince. Like he’d been reverted back to his fancy-ass factory settings.

Blitzø glanced around the diner again. There were a few customers other than them, and he’d noticed some of them shoot their table wary glances, as if Stolas would disintegrate them if he was feeling bored. It was a lot like how the imp staff looked at him in the hallway, and it was a helluva lot different from how other imps had been treating Stolas recently, like the bigoted ‘mastermind’ he convinced everyone he was on TV before getting stripped of his powers and status. The demons in this diner clearly didn’t want to fuck with him. Good for Blitzø, since he hopefully wouldn’t have to curb-stomp any clueless bitches who tried picking a fight, but the idea that anyone could be intimated by Stolas was something he couldn’t easily wrap his head around. Sure, he was rich and powerful, but this bird absolutely reeked passive energy. It would take a fuck-ton for Stolas to go on the offensive.

On top of the wariness, Blitzø also picked up on their confusion. Clearly they couldn’t fathom how someone like him was having breakfast with a demon prince. Now he could understand that easily, especially sitting with this Stolas. He looked like he’d never stepped foot in a diner before.

It’d been a while since Blitzø felt such a stark difference in status between them. He shifted in his seat uncomfortably, suddenly self-conscious. Thankfully the waitress didn’t remember them, but maybe taking Stolas here was still a bad idea.

No. He knew why they were here. Because the fact that his Stolas hadn’t been eating recently was still nagging at him. And this Stolas looked even thinner, as if he’d never eaten a full meal in his immortal life. Selfishly, Blitzø wanted to see Stolas enjoy a meal. Something better than a smushed rat. Something better than what Blitzø could provide him. And something that didn’t come from some restricted, fancy-ass diet.

He also found himself wanting to see this Stolas be more impulsive. Do some fun shit that was ‘unbecoming of a Goetia’, whatever handed-down wealthy bullshit that was meant to mean. He was a magical prince, for fuck’s sake, he could do whatever he wanted.

“Shall we start with coffee?” Stolas proposed, still looking over the menu as if it was written in a foreign language. “It appears they do not serve salads of any kind. Or vole, unfortunately…”

“I’m gonna order you something waaaaay better,” Blitzø promised, and Stolas looked up from his menu, meeting Blitzø’s gaze.

“Will it be…what was it? ‘The tits’?” Stolas asked with a poorly suppressed smile. Blitzø let out a laugh.

“Damn straight,” he said. Then paused. “But I’m not straight, to be clear.” He tracked Stolas’ reaction not for the first time that day. But the royal bird was impossible to read, except for the barely-there pink in his cheeks. Damn. “Hey! We’re ready to order!” Blitzø called out, waving over the waitress. Stolas’ eyes widened.

“But we have hardly planned-“

“Don’t worry, princey. I know what you like,” Blitzø said, giving him a wink. Then he faltered. “Unless you wanna choose –“

“No!” Stolas said, then cleared his throat, straightening his posture and setting his menu down on the table. “Um, I-I mean…very well, I will allow you to decide. Although I wonder what makes you believe that you know my dining preferences,” he commented, a small, teasing smile on his lips as he looked at Blitzø with interest. Something about that look made Blitzø’s palms sweat. He tapped his fingers nervously against the sticky table.

“Maybe I can see the future after all,” he decided to tease back. “I have a crystal ball stashed in my apartment and everything.” Stolas chuckled, moving to hide his smile behind his menu. Blitzø couldn’t stop the dopey grin on his face. The last time he watched Stolas hide his face behind a menu it’d been under much different circumstances. This time it was…nice. Cute, even.

“I don’t give a fuck about your balls. Hurry it up,” the waitress said, back at their table and pulling out her small yellow pad of paper. “The lunch rush is startin’ soon.”

“I hardly think that is any way to speak to-” Stolas began, taken aback.

“The lunch rush can be a real bitch,” Blitzø intercepted, attention directed to the waitress, “especially since you’re the only one serving tables. We get it.” He shot Stolas a pointed look.

Stolas’ beak parted in surprise, and then he furrowed his brow, looking down at the table. Shit. He didn’t mean to make the bird feel bad. He wanted to say something, but with the way the waitress was tapping her foot he figured he should put in their order first.

“We’ll start with coffee,” he began. “A pot of something dark and bitter for the handsome prince. He’s plenty sweet already,” he couldn’t resist shooting Stolas a wink. He watched as Stolas’ frown quickly shifted into something more flustered. Fuck yeah. That was something, at least. The waitress rolled her eyes, but she wrote it down without comment. “We’ll also get a big-ass stack of pancakes, make sure to slather that butter on top like it just had the best night of its life, and we’ll get a side of bacon, sausage and…” Blitzø checked the menu, “and your greasiest home fries. Yeah, why the fuck not.”

“Any eggs?” the waitress asked, tone flat and to the point as she scribbled along. Blitzø caught Stolas’ silent gag.

“Nah,” Blitzø said, leaning back in his seat. “We’ll pass.”

“I’ll be back with that coffee,” the waitress said with a nod, walking off again. Blitzø noticed the perplexed look on Stolas’ face as he watched her go. Then Stolas met his questioning gaze.

“I neglected to consider that she may soon be busy with other customers,” he explained. “You made it sound…stressful?” Blitzø scoffed.

“Oh yeah. Jobs like these can fucking suck. Usually I try to be nice to ‘em, unless they start acting like assholes for no reason,” he explained, once again thinking about how that bitch spat in Stolas’ food. She did do it thinking that Stolas publicly despised imps and thought they were scum, so sure, part of him could understand where she was coming from. But he still didn’t regret fighting her ass.

“Why do a job that you hate?” Stolas asked, confused. “If it is so terrible, would it not be logical to resign?”

“Not everyone has the luxury to do what they like,” Blitzø said with a shrug. “And you gotta make a living somehow. Shitty job or not.” Stolas nodded, brows pinched together thoughtfully.

“I see.” Then he seemed to realize something.  “You indeed knew how I prefer my coffee. How?” Blitzø saw the corners of his beak twitch up in amusement. “Did you see it in your crystal ball?”

“This time it was a lucky guess,” Blitzø answered with a smile of his own, although that wasn’t true. He knew what coffee he liked because he knew Stolas. But this Stolas didn’t know that. “And I have a feeling you’ll like the food, too. So ya better eat up. I wanna see some meat on those bird bones.” He gave Stolas a flirty once over. Stolas grimaced, letting out an awkward laugh.

Blitzø’s heart sunk as he watched the way his demeanor shifted, as if he was withdrawing into himself, closing himself off from him. Consciously or not, Stolas was putting more distance between them before his eyes. Blitzø had to fight the urge to reach out, clenching his fists under the booth instead as he began shaking his leg. What the fuck was this? What'd he do this time?

“Yes. My wife reminds me of how scrawny I am. Quite unattractive, I know,” Stolas said, a forced smile on his lips as he averted his gaze. Blitzø leaned forward in his seat, eyes widening. Where did that bitch get off, calling his bird scrawny?

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he quickly explained. “I just want you to live a little. Have a big meal that’s not part of some boring-ass diet. Get into a food coma!” Stolas looked at him in alarm.

“That sounds like a medical emergency!” Blitzø let out a surprised laugh, shaking his head and leaning back in his seat.

“It’s not what you think. It usually happens after ya eat a shit-ton of food. Whenever I get one I like crashin’ on the couch and taking a fat nap. Doesn’t happen often, though.”

“Why not?” Stolas asked, interested. Blitzø shrugged.

“Can’t afford it. But business has gotten busy lately, so I figured I’d treat us today.”

“You treat me?” Stolas asked. He let out a laugh, covering it with his hand, and Blitzø frowned. “Another hilarious clown joke. You’re such a silly imp. Just like when we were children.”

“I was being serious,” Blitzø said with narrowed eyes. He crossed his arms, feeling a flash of irritation that made the spikes on his back straighten. “And don’t call me a ‘silly imp’. It rubs me the wrong way.”

“Oh,” Stolas said, eyes widening. He looked embarrassed. “I apologize, I did not consider –“

“Yeah, royals usually don’t,” Blitzø shot back, a bite in his tone as he rolled his eyes. Then he noticed the way Stolas’ expression fell. He quickly felt a stab of guilt, the knife of it twisting his insides.

As rare as it was for Stolas to switch into an offensive position, it was easy-as-fuck for Blitzø. Basically second nature. If you can’t hit first then hit harder: that was the rule he grew up living by. It was another quality he wanted to fix for Stolas. And yet he just had to get that swing in. Satan, he was such an asshole. He couldn’t even do something as simple as this right. He couldn’t even show Stolas a good time in his own hallucination. He uncrossed his arms. "Shit, sorry-"

“No,” Stolas interrupted, raising a hand to stop him. He hesitated, and Blitzø waited for him to continue, nervously hitting his boot against the base of his seat. “I’m accustomed to having my many flaws be pointed out quite bluntly…but by someone who only does so to upset me.” He paused again. “I don't feel as though you intended to upset me…but for me to understand you better. Is…is that the case?” Blitzø tracked his expression, seeing the flicker of hope there, but also a wariness and uncertainty.

“What dickhead is pointing out your flaws just to upset you?” Blitzø asked, although he had a sneaking suspicion. Stolas held his arms to his chest as he looked down at the table, letting out a weak laugh.

“It’s unimportant,” he said, shaking his head slightly.

‘It is important,’ Blitzø thought, but hesitated to say out loud. ‘Because you’re important. Because I wanna know everything about you.’

“I’m not doing that shit,” he said instead, tapping his fingers nervously against his thighs. “I just…I guess…” he let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand down his face, “all the ‘little’ and ‘imp’ stuff can really piss me off sometimes.” All the time. “Makes me feel…” Inferior. Stupid. Worthless. Helpless. “…shitty,” he offered vaguely.

He really hated talking about this type of stuff. Feelings. Ugh. He’d rather chew glass. But like everything else about himself, he was trying to do better. To be…different. For Stolas’ sake.

“Oh, I see,” Stolas said, looking like he was really taking in what he said. “I will keep that in mind moving forward. I apologize,” he said, pressing a hand against his chest. Blitzø scoffed.

“I told you to cut that cringe –“ he began, then stopped himself. He told his Stolas that. Not this Stolas. And besides, this kind of apology felt…nice. “Uh, thanks,” he said, clearing his throat awkwardly. Stolas nodded, and then Blitzø saw the spark of curiosity in his eyes.

“Let us converse about something else. I am quite interested to know more about your ‘killing people’ business.” He smiled. “Your eyes were shining quite wonderfully when you mentioned it.” Blitzø felt self-conscious all of a sudden. His eyes were shining wonderfully? He’d never gotten a cheesy compliment like that before. But if he was going to, of course it’d be from this rom-com-loving bird. He wouldn’t be surprised if Stolas wrote something like that in one of his sappy porn stories. He couldn’t help the fond smile that tugged at his lips thinking about it. Cringe dork.

“We’re assassins for hire,” he said with a shrug. “Clients come to our office with requests, and then we portal to the living world to kill some assholes.” As nonchalant as he was trying to play it, he couldn’t help but feel a glow of pride. Because he was proud - proud of I.M.P. and everything they managed to pull off, especially since a lot of small-minded dickheads thought their odds of success were shit. It was hard not to feel smug about it. “We have a fuck-ton of new clients coming in these days, because-”

Because of that trial being all over TV. But Stolas seemed to have no idea about it. Same with the imps in this diner, for some annoying reason he still hadn’t figured out.

“-because I’m a good fucking boss,” Blitzø pivoted. Stolas smiled brightly.

“Wow! So you became a boss with a big office, just like you told me you would,” he observed. Blitzø’s expression softened.

“Heh. You remembered me saying that shit?” He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling bashful. So much for playing it cool. “Yeah, I guess it’s been the dream for a while, huh?”

“And would it be safe to assume that your Asmodean crystal is how you access the living world?” Stolas asked, nodding at the crystal on Blitzø’s wrist. Blitzø moved his hand off the back of his neck, holding up his wrist for them both to look at it.

“Yup, it’s certainly made shit easier.” He snuck glances at Stolas’ expression, trying to find any recognition there.

“It's beautiful as well. I couldn’t help but admire it before, back at my palace,” Stolas confessed, leaning forward in his seat as he continued to look at it. “How did you come to acquire it?”

“Uh, it was a gift,” Blitzø said vaguely, not sure how specific he should get. Stolas nodded, looking unsurprised. Wait, did he remember-?

“I assumed as much. And from someone who must be quite close to you.” Blitzø looked at Stolas in curiosity.

“What makes you say that?” Stolas reached out a hand to gently cup Blitzø’s, palm touching palm. He ran a gentle finger along the amber crystal with his other hand. Blitzø shivered at the unexpected contact. The fuck? Why was he acting like some inexperienced prude? He was used to casual gestures like this from Stolas, especially recently. And they’d done much more than touching hands in the past. It was stupid to get flustered over something as PG as this, when so much of their relationship had been X-rated.

But something felt…different, with this Stolas. Brand new in a way Blitzø couldn’t begin to explain.

“It blends in so nicely with your outfit,” Stolas noted, nodding at the glove on Blitzø’s other wrist. Then Blitzø watched as Stolas lifted his gaze, four, pupilless ruby eyes considering him. He fought the urge to squirm in his seat, stubbornly ignoring the way his stomach swooped. “And the color…”

“Yeah? What about it?” Blitzø asked, interested. He saw a blush rise in Stolas’ cheeks.

“It's the same color as your eyes,” he replied. Blitzø glanced down at his crystal. Huh. He hadn’t realized. “That is why I assumed whoever gave you this crystal must be close to you. They seemed to have put a lot of thought into it. Did you get it directly from the King of Lust himself? Is he a benefactor of your business?” Blitzø shook his head, gently pulling his hand away.

Stolas, his Stolas, really had put a lot of thought into this crystal, huh? He felt like a dumbass for not realizing it himself. If only he’d noticed on that full moon. Maybe he would’ve figured out that Stolas really did have actual feelings for him. And if he did, maybe he wouldn’t have said all those shitty things.

React first, think later. Bullshit. Sometimes he didn’t think at all.

“No, my, uh…friend, convinced Ozzie – the King of Lust,” Blitzø corrected, “to register one under my name so I could do my business.”

“You must have a friend of high influence,” Stolas observed, intrigued. Blitzø smiled, expression softening.

“Yeah, he’s really something else,” he said, hearing the warmth in his own words. Then he paused. “Ya know, speaking of my business, you need to have some more self-preservation when you find a rando in your daughter’s closet,” he chided. “You’re lucky I’m just your clown for the day.” Stolas raised a brow at him, a barely suppressed smile on his lips.

“So I should have turned you into stone, no questions asked?” Oh. Blitzø’s throat was suddenly dry. He didn’t know Stolas could do that. Was he always able to do that? Before he lost his powers, at least?

“Huh. Okaaaay…maybe I was the lucky one.” He saw the smug smile spread on Stolas’ lips. Then something in Stolas’ expression softened, his smile becoming sweeter, maybe even a little shy.

“No. I am the lucky one,” he said quietly, and Blitzø looked at him in confusion. He watched as Stolas leaned forward in his seat, putting his elbows on the table and resting his chin on his interlaced fingers. “I get to spend the day with my first friend, after all.” Blitzø’s lips parted when he heard the sincerity in Stolas’ words.

“Y-yeah,” he said, clearing his throat as he tried to pretend that the way Stolas was looking at him wasn’t making him flustered. Because he didn’t get flustered. “Whattaya wanna do today, anyway? Play pirates?” Stolas chuckled, an easy smile on his lips. Then his smile fell, and Blitzø watched as he straightened his posture, removing his elbows from the table and placing them more primly in his lap.

“Before we make plans…how long did my father pay for you to spend time with me?” he asked. “Until the end of today? 24 hours?” Blitzø frowned. Stolas thinking that money was the only reason he was here didn’t sit right with him. He was tempted to confess that he wasn’t paid to be here at all. But then Stolas would ask him for the real reason why he was in his daughter’s closet, and Blitzø hadn’t come up with anything good yet.

“Uh, I dunno,” Blitzø said vaguely, cringing at how dumb that sounded. “Definitely 24 hours, at least. I’ll check, the uh, payment later.” Hopefully by the end of the day he’d have already snapped out of whatever hallucination this was. Maybe Millie and Loona were already on their way to save him like the last time. He just hoped this wasn’t the work of those stupid-ass government agents again. But even if it was, was there any harm in enjoying it while it lasted? It’s not like there were any real consequences.

Maybe, if he was lucky, the two of them would get to have some quality time in that big, comfy-ass bed of his. He’d love to spend his sweet time whispering all sorts of compliments into this bird’s ear, until he was certain he’d convinced him not to listen to any of the bullshit insults that’d been thrown his way.

But if this wasn’t a hallucination, if somehow this was his Stolas, and there was some crazy spell he needed to break to fix everything – then Blitzø was tempted to say that he wanted to stick around for the rest of his life. If Stolas would have him. 

And shit did that thought scare him. His instinct was to bury that feeling down deep, to deny deny deny because commitment was never his thing, because he was terrified of holding onto people he could easily lose – but he was also tired of running from the people who made him feel less alone. Pushing people away was carved into his skin, very literally, but he found it impossible to push Stolas away.

He wasn’t sure which he needed to cut loose, which part of him needed fixing – his need to hold on or the instinct to let go. It was another tightrope he was currently balancing on.

Whatever the right answer was, he found himself missing him. His Stolas. The one who knew him. The one he left back on his shitty couch, sad sack and all.

“Then if we indeed have a full 24 hours, perhaps we can go on a short trip somewhere?” this Stolas proposed, pulling Blitzø away from his thoughts. “And I would like to include my daughter in our plans.”

“Sure, she can tag along,” Blitzø said. “Sooo the two of you are…good?” he couldn’t resist asking, just to make sure.

“Of course,” Stolas said, blinking at him in confusion. Then he let out a soft laugh. “She is in her teenage phase, which has come with particular moments of angst and gestures of budding independence,” he explained with a wave of his hand. Blitzø caught the obvious, overflowing fondness in his tone, his expression. “But we have always been quite close. Octavia is…” he paused, eyes shining with pride as he pressed his hand against his chest, “she is my whole world. I want to provide a day full of fun for her. It has been a while since we had one of those,” he admitted. Blitzø tried to ignore the way his heart dropped as he listened.

This Stolas didn’t know what it was like to lose Octavia. It gave Blitzø a sense of relief, but it was also a stark reminder of how happy his Stolas could be, but wasn’t. When he lost Octavia, he lost his whole world. Blitzø couldn’t ignore the weight of that, not when he was the reason why. He could feel that familiar feeling of guilt grip at his throat, viciously trying to find purchase. He clenched his fists under the table.

He was determined to give this Stolas and Octavia the best father-daughter day of their fucking lives.

“Octavia used to love going to Loo Loo Land when she was small, do you think that perhaps we should -?“

“No!” Blitzø cut him off, slamming his hands on the table. Stolas’ eyes widened, and Blitzø gave him a sheepish smile, sliding his hands off the table and back onto his seat. He needed to come up with a good idea and fast, because there was no fucking way they were going to Loo Loo Land. He already knew how that shit-show would end. And besides, didn’t he burn that dump down? Had they rebuilt it already? Not worth the effort, if you asked him.  

He thought about the few moments he’d seen Stolas and Octavia together. One memory stood out in particular, of the three of them plus his perfect Loonie watching those fireworks. He smiled at the memory. That’d been a crazy fucking day, and it all started because Octavia wanted to see some space tears, whatever-the-fuck those were.

He remembered his Stolas mentioning how that was one of his regrets, forgetting that he promised to see them with Octavia. He doubted today was the day to see them - he was pretty sure they only showed up every once in a while, and that ship already sailed - but maybe they could do something similar? Then he remembered what Loona told him. She found Octavia at some observatory. Apparently she was planning to try and see those tears there. He snapped his fingers, grinning.

“I know what we’re gonna do,” he decided, and Stolas’ eyes lit up.

“Well do not leave me in suspense!” Blitzø felt another crashing wave of fondness. This Stolas was so enthusiastic, so easy to please, so full of energy.

“We’re gonna go see some stars,” he declared, and Stolas clapped his hands, letting out an excited hoot.

“Oooo I do adore stars, and so does my Via. What a great idea, Blitzy!” Blitzø could help but laugh at the nickname.

“Here’s that black coffee,” the waitress announced, setting two non-matching mugs on the table and pouring coffee from a pot into each. Blitzø glanced down at his blue mug, watching as steam rose from the black, liquid surface.

“Thank you, dear,” Stolas said, giving her an appreciative nod and a smile. “This is just what I needed. It smells delicious.”

“Don’t need to lay it on that thick,” the waitress said, rolling her eyes, although there was a twitch of a smile on her lips. “Food’s coming out soon,” she added, leaving to check on another table. Blitzø watched the exchange in surprise. Then he scoffed, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms.

“Decided you wanted to charm her, eh?” he asked, giving Stolas a once-over. He was almost jealous. He wanted a bite of some of that praise himself. Stolas laughed, his cheeks a pretty shade of pink.

“I suppose what you said earlier resonated with me,” he confessed. Blitzø raised a brow, waiting for him to continue. “Not everyone has the luxury to do what they like,” he repeated, a bitter smile on his lips. “Sometimes we must do what our station demands of us, whether we want to or not.” Stolas paused, his bitter smile shifting into a frown. “It seems cruel to add to those demands carelessly.” Blitzø let out a laugh.

“The demands of a prince are a little different, though, don’t ya think?” he pointed out. “Not exactly cleaning up someone’s puke or getting yelled at by limp-dicked customers.”

“Right,” Stolas said quietly, not meeting Blitzø’s gaze. “I suppose it’s quite ridiculous to make such a comparison.” Blitzø searched Stolas’ expression, recognizing the now all-too-familiar sadness. Then he remembered what Octavia said before she left Stolas behind:

‘Does that mean you just stayed miserable because of me?’

And what this Stolas said earlier today:

‘Such display of emotion is unbecoming of a Goetia.’

Blitzø furrowed his brow. He assumed this Stolas was so self-restrained because of his posh lifestyle. He never imagined a prince could be forced to do or be anything. Was he wrong?

Stolas picked up his yellow-colored mug, taking a tentative sip. He grimaced, but then seemed to notice Blitzø watching him and managed a smile. “It’s…great,” he said, clearly lying through his teeth. Blitzø took a sip of his own coffee.

“Ugh,” he said, flicking out his tongue in disgust. “Satan’s taint it’s bitter. Bitter coffee's the fucking worst.” Stolas blinked at him in confusion, his sad expression now curious.

“Then why did you order this coffee?”

“Because it’s the kinda coffee you like,” Blitzø said with a shrug. He’d been on plenty of coffee runs since they started living together. “Or, er, I mean, that I figured you’d like. Lucky guess, remember?”

“Ah. Is this another example of an employee having to do something they do not want to do?” Stolas asked, setting down his coffee. Blitzø looked at him in confusion, and then quickly shook his head.

“No,” he said firmly. Then he hesitated. “This is…this is something that friends do.” He watched Stolas’ expression brighten.

“It is?”

“Sure. Sometimes friends do things they don’t necessarily wanna do, ya know, because it’ll make their friend happy,” Blitzø tried to explain, feeling self-conscious all of a sudden as he told half-truths. Because he wasn’t doing this as Stolas’ friend. He was doing this because Stolas was much more than that. But it was hard to confess that to a version of Stolas who barely knew him.

“I see,” Stolas said, brows pinched together thoughtfully. “What coffee do you like, then?”

“Oh, uh,” Blitzø said, not expecting the question. “I prefer it sweet myself. The more whipped cream the better. Love me some cream.” He gave Stolas a wink, and Stolas scoffed behind his mug, taking another sip of his coffee.

“For the record, I believe that you are quite sweet yourself,” he said with a smile, setting down his mug. “Perhaps with a hint of an acidic bite,” he teased.

“I do love to bite,” Blitzø replied with a toothy grin, flashing his fangs. Stolas’ face flushed red, and he quickly waved his hands, conjuring up a piece of yellowed parchment paper and a fancy purple pen. Both proceeded to float in the air, surrounded by purple magic.

“Sooooo,” Stolas said, clearing his throat, that pretty flush still on his cheeks. “We will go on a trip to see the stars.” The pen started to scribble on the piece of paper. “Anything else, Blitzy?” Blitzø moved to sit next to Stolas, sliding across the red cushioned seat. 

“Lemme see,” he said, craning his neck to look at the piece of paper floating above his head. His side was pressed against Stolas’. He could feel his familiar warmth, the soft feathers on his arms and legs. It was such a simple, normal gesture for him that he didn’t think twice about it. But this Stolas clearly did.

As if he’d been burned, the bird slid further into the booth, their sides no longer pressed together. Blitzø bit back his disappointment, watching as Stolas waved his hand, the paper floating over to stop between them. Blitzø forced a smile.

“Thanks,” he said. Stolas nodded politely, face still redder than normal. “The place we’re going to is in the living world, so we’ll sneak in after it closes,” Blitzø explained. The pen resumed jotting notes down.

“Ooo sneaking in?” Stolas said, pressing his fingertips against his chest. “How scandalous.”

“Comes with the territory when you’re spending the day with an assassin,” Blitzø replied, and Stolas tittered into his hand. “What else do you wanna do? We’ll have a few hours to kill before our trip to the living world."

“Oh!” Stolas said, blinking thoughtfully. “I…hmm. What do you think that we should do?”

“Me? This is supposed to be your day, princey.”

“Right,” Stolas said, expression hard to read. The pen had stopped, hovering in the air uncertainly. He was quiet for a long moment, looking like he was struggling to come up with something.

“What about a plant shop?” Blitzø suggested, and Stolas eyes lit up, the furrow between his brows disappearing. The pen resumed its happy scribbling.

“What an excellent idea!” he said emphatically. “There is one place in particular that I love to frequent. It’s located in Greed. Perhaps we could stop there after we eat?” Blitzø’s expression softened.

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Order up,” the waitress said, placing a variety of plates full of hot food on the table. Blitzø gazed longingly at it all, practically salivating. He was fucking starving. He picked up a fork, tearing off a piece of the topmost pancake, which was slathered in butter, and held it up to Stolas’ beak. “Here, get a taste of this bad boy first.” Stolas glanced at it, wary, and then put his mouth over the fork, sliding off the piece of pancake. Blitzø watched him carefully, drinking in his expression, especially when the bird’s eyes lit up.

“Delicious!” he said with feeling. Blitzø chuckled, stabbing one of the sausages next and holding it up for Stolas to eat. Stolas smiled at him, tilting his head slightly and looking bemused.

“Will you be feeding me each bite?” he asked, and Blitzø felt his face heat up in embarrassment. He’d gotten used to doing this with his Stolas. Every bite counted with that stubborn bitch, and more than once he had to be pushy-as-fuck to get his way. You’d think the bird was on some kinda hunger strike.

But with this Stolas, the prince had a point  - this was a little intimate for two people who hadn’t seen each other in a long-ass time. Blitzø lowered the fork, letting out an awkward laugh.

“I didn’t dislike it!” Stolas said quickly, and Blitzø looked up at him in surprise, seeing his blush. “I just…no one has ever spoon-fed me before. Or fork-fed me, in this case,” he corrected with a titter. “Other than my butler when I was a very young owlet, I suppose, but that was only because I could not yet feed myself…”

“What about when you’re sick?” Blitzø asked. “Ya know, the whole hot soup in bed treatment?” He held the red skull pendant on his neck as he asked that. When he realized what he was doing he quickly took his hand away, putting it back on the seat.

“Ailments are a rarity for the Goetia,” Stolas explained. “But when I do feel under the weather…”

“Yeah?” Blitzø pressed, curious.

“I…um, well I usually just keep to myself,” Stolas stumbled out, letting out a nervous laugh. Blitzø furrowed his brow.

“No one takes care of you? What about your staff?”

“They deliver the appropriate meals for me, along with medicine, of course, but none of them feed me,” Stolas explained. “I am not that spoiled, as shocking as that may seem,” he teased. Then his expression became more serious. “And I would hate to risk getting Octavia sick because she was forced to care for me-”

Forced? Is that how this Stolas saw it? Someone would only take care of him if they were forced to? Nah, he needed to set the record straight here.

“’Kay, maybe this ain’t in the clown-for-a-day job description,” Blitzø conceded. He lifted the fork back up. “But how ‘bout I feed you one more bite anyway? Free of charge. Because I want to.” Stolas hesitated, as if he was trying to make sure Blitzø meant what he said and wasn’t just humoring him. “C’mon princey, before my arm gets tired,” he teased, and Stolas relaxed, pulling the sausage off the fork with his beak and sliding it into his mouth. He furrowed his brow thoughtfully.

“Salty,” he observed. Blitzø rolled his eyes.

“You better not whine and say you’re gonna get exorcized-“ he began, and Stolas laughed behind his hand, throat bobbing as he swallowed.

“A good salty,” Stolas assured him. “Quite flavorful. You were right – I much prefer this to a kale salad.” He gently took the fork from Blitzø, stabbing another sausage and happily tearing off another piece with his beak.

“Soooo you’re a big sausage fan, eh?” Blitzø couldn’t resist asking, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. Stolas’ eyes widened and he began to choke, fork clattering to the table as he clutched the front of his romper, the feathers around his neck puffing out. Blitzø put a startled hand on the bird’s back, ready to give the ol’ Heimlich if needed. Not how he imagined wrapping his arms around this sexy bird from behind, but hey, he was nothing if not adaptable.

His services weren’t needed, though, and Stolas managed to breathe easy soon enough.

“A-apologies. How undignified,” Stolas said sheepishly, smoothing out the feathers on his neck with both hands, then straightening his hat. “I suppose I had some trouble swallowing that time around.”

“Hey, don’t sweat it. You get better with practice,” Blitzø teased, giving Stolas a wink as he slid his hand off his back. Stolas looked at him, all four pupilless eyes wide, and then he let out a warbling laugh, shaking his head.

“You are quite relentless, aren’t you, Blitzy,” Stolas observed, the corners of his beak turning upwards as he rested his chin in his hand on the table, turning to face him more fully and giving him a once-over. “If I didn’t know better, I would think you were not sent to my palace to entertain me, but to ravish me, given all these suggestive jokes you’ve been making since we left the closet.”

Blitzø swallowed thickly, hand twitching where it rested on the seat next to Stolas’ thigh. Damn, he wanted that. The idea of fucking this Stolas, who’d never slept with him before, was too tempting. Because he knew every little thing this bird liked, at least, if this Stolas was the same as his in the bedroom.

He imagined the reactions he could pull out of this bird. How surprised he’d be when Blitzø used every Stolas-specific trick he had up his sleeve. His tail swished from side to side, his hand creeping over to one of those perfect thighs. He could straddle him right now – bite his neck, yank on those soft feathers, slip his tail up his romper until he found that spot that always made Stolas melt for him. Sure, maybe the waitress would get pissed, but he fought that bitch before -

“But I tease, of course,” Stolas said, pulling Blitzø away from his thoughts. “I know better than to assume something as outrageous as that.” He watched, dumbfounded, as Stolas took another bite of his sausage, swallowing carefully this time and looking around the diner happily.

Woah woah woah. Now that was enough to give Blitzø whiplash. Why the fuck did he think it was ‘outrageous’? Because he was an imp and Stolas was a prince?

Wait. No. He quickly slammed the brakes on that train of thought. He wasn’t dumb enough to fall back into that type of thinking again. It’d already fucked him over once.

Whatever the reason was, he was determined to figure it out. He was determined to figure all of this crazy mess out. He just needed to think first, then react.

And as a bonus, a big part of him - specifically the big part between his legs - really wanted to find a way to seduce this bird. He did it once. He could do it again. And he’d do it better.

Who knows? Maybe that was the trick to all this. If he could get this Stolas to want him, maybe that’d break him out of whatever too-real fantasyland this was. Kinda like those fairy tales his Stolas would try to explain to him. It was a lead to follow, at least. A very tempting lead.

“This is excellent as well!” Stolas said. He’d moved onto the home fries, digging in. Blitzø rested his arm on the back of the booth, smiling as he watched. They hadn’t gotten this far the last time they were here.

“Eat up, princey. We have a big day ahead of us.” Stolas clapped his hands in excitement, letting out an excited hoot. Blitzø chuckled, smiling wider. He’d been thinking about how hungry he was a few minutes ago, and sure he’d start digging in himself soon, but getting to see Stolas like this? It sure was satisfying a different kind of hunger.

Chapter Text

“You sneaky bitch. Did you pay the tab while I was in the can?” Blitzø asked, crossing his arms as he glared up at Stolas. The bird had been waiting for Blitzø at the diner entrance, right under a neon sign of a hot dog.

The lunch rush was well under way. Blitzø glanced over to see the waitress zipping from table to table of rowdy customers, cloven hooves a blur. He winced in sympathy, then shifted his attention back to Stolas, glare back on his face.

“I appreciate the sentiment, Blitzy, but I have more money than I know what to do with,” Stolas said, equally as stubborn. “I would prefer that you use your hard-earned money for something that you want to do rather than something that was done for my sake.” He let out a laugh. “I would be quite the asshole to make you pay for my meal when you are being paid to spend the day with me.” Blitzø’s glare fell, and he found himself searching Stolas’ gaze.

Planning to pay for the food wasn’t the unselfish gesture Stolas thought it was. Blitzø wanted to see Stolas eat, and laugh, and smile at him, and talk to him – he was greedily taking in this Stolas whose life Blitzø hadn’t fucked up. If anything, Stolas was humoring him, not the other way around.

But from Stolas’ perspective, this was strictly a job for Blitzø. The bird thought that this, whatever this was between the two of them, had an expiration date of 24 hours, and then Blitzø would be gone. Just like when they were kids. He shook his head, feeling frustrated. He kept wanting to explain, to set things straight, but how could he? And why did he keep feeling like he should, when this was probably all in his head anyway?

All he knew for sure was that wanting wasn’t the problem here. Wanting too much...that’s what Blitzø was worried about.

“Filthy rich or not, when someone says they’ll pay…” he began to argue, Stolas looking down at him in curiosity, ruby eyes on him. Blitzø found his own gaze wandering to the bird’s crowned hat, then to his fancy cape with the fur trim. He could feel the gazes of some of the other imps in the diner on his back, watching to see what he’d do next. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You leave a tip?”

“A what?” Stolas asked, confused. Blitzø scoffed, dropping his hand. This sheltered bird. He walked over to the table they’d been eating at, which hadn’t been cleared yet, and left a few bills. At least he had the chance to do that much. Then he marched back over to Stolas, whose beak was already open to protest, and grabbed the bird’s hand, pulling him out of the diner.

“So where’s this plant shop ya wanna check out?” he asked, swiftly changing the subject as they started walking down the street. “Somewhere in Greed, yeah?”

“Oh, um, yes! Is that alright? I know that not many demons consider plants to be the most riveting subject –“ Stolas began, back bent slightly as Blitzø pulled him along.

“This is your day, princey,” Blitzø reminded him. Then he paused, chewing over his next words. “To be clear, this is something I want to do. With you. I…remember you talking about plants when we were kids.”

“You remember that?” Stolas asked, surprised. Blitzø felt self-conscious all of a sudden.

He remembered Stolas showing him a bunch of random books when they were kids, and he was pretty sure at least one was about plants, but he hadn’t given enough of a fuck to pay attention. He was too preoccupied with finding good shit to steal so his dad wouldn't be pissed at him.

Then every once in a while, during their monthly fucking routine, Stolas would mention his garden, rambling on about the plants he took care of. Again, Blitzø tuned him out. Whenever Stolas offered to show him his plants he’d give him a hard pass. Frolicking around in his royal garden? That wasn’t what their relationship was.

But then Blitzø started to notice Stolas’ expression as he talked about his plants, the shy curve of his smile. He looked…pretty. So Blitzø started listening more, shutting him down less, and even though a lot of it went over his head, a few things stuck eventually. Those moments he remembered clearly. But obviously he wasn’t gonna tell this Stolas that. He hadn't even told his Stolas that.

“Sureeeee. I remember. It’s not a big deal or anything,” Blitzø said vaguely, looking ahead at the street as they continued to walk. He never got around to seeing Stolas’ garden. He kept putting it off and making lame-ass excuses. Was the garden full of dead plants now? The one back in the real world?

If those withered plants he saw shoved into random corners were anything to go by, he had a feeling that garden was a goner. He wondered if his Stolas thought about that. He’d never mentioned it, but he’d be shocked if it hadn’t crossed his mind. Another thing Stolas lost. Because of Blitzø.

He could feel the familiar overcast of guilt creeping in, filling his mind in a thick gray haze. His fault his fault everything was his fault -

He suddenly felt Stolas give his hand a squeeze, and he looked up at him in surprise. He was smiling down at Blitzø, expression soft.

“Remembering my silly ramblings…that means…that means a lot to me,” Stolas said slowly, honestly. Blitzø’s lips parted. Here Stolas was, swooping in to save Blitzø again, this time from his own thoughts.

Then Stolas seemed to realize what he was doing, quickly pulling his hand out of Blitzø’s and letting out a nervous laugh.

“Anyway…” he said, averting his gaze as he tugged at the fur collar of his cape. “Oh! Shall we take the elevator?” he suggested, pointing to the large, gold building at the other end of the street. “I’ve never had the opportunity to take it, given that I usually have my grimOoire on me.” Right. The thing Blitzø had stashed under his couch. Hopefully he could slip it back into Stolas’ bookshelf the next time he had the chance. Or should he hold onto it? Maybe it'd help him figure this mess out. 

“Heh, can’t say I’m surprised. Wouldn’t expect royalty to take public transportation with us regular assholes,” Blitzø pointed out.

“And I would not expect to find an assassin in my daughter’s closet. I suppose today is full of surprises.” Blitzø barked out a laugh.

“Got me there. I’m paying for the tickets, though," he said stubbornly. Stolas clasped his hands in front of him as they continued to walk, heading in the direction of the elevator hall.

“As you have pointed out yourself, this is my day. And since this is my day, I am going to pay for our expenses.” Blitzø scoffed.

“Stubborn bitch. Fine. Then take me for a ride, princey.” He shot Stolas a suggestive smile. “Can’t miss an opportunity to see you go down.” Stolas let out an amused puff of air, shaking his head and biting back his smile. Blitzø could spot the tinge of pink in his cheeks, but it wasn’t the full red flush he’d been seeing a lot today. He didn’t know how to feel about that. Part of him loved making this bird flustered, but there was also a sweet satisfaction in knowing that this Stolas might be getting more comfortable around him.

He’ll take it as a win. As long as Stolas kept smiling at him like that. Kept smiling in general. You’d never catch him admitting it, but when it came to Stolas, hallucination or not, he was a whipped bitch. He’d take what he could get.

It didn’t take long for them to step inside the massive, gold-filled atrium. Stolas looked around with wide, curious eyes, taking it all in.

Blitzø was reminded of the time he followed M&M here when they were heading to their vanilla-as-fuck anniversary date. What a grade-A, stupid-ass idea on his part. That whole night was full of shitty choices. Like getting Stolas’ hopes up by dangling a date in front of his eyes when all Blitzø really wanted was a royal express ticket into the place. Did he know that Stolas was genuinely excited? Fuck no. How could he? He was shocked when Stolas showed up in his fancy-ass outfit.

Honestly, he'd been more than shocked. It’d actually pissed him off a little, because it made the difference between them even more obvious. Part of him thought that Stolas did it on purpose, to remind Blitzø of how much power he had, that Blitzø needed him. Too late he figured out that Stolas had just wanted to look nice for their sham of a date. Sure, Blitzø had no fucking clue, but he still felt like a piece of shit thinking back on it now.

He remembered Ozzie’s words to Stolas that night:

‘I hope you didn’t give it up so you and him could get it up’  

Sure, he was pretty certain that his Stolas didn’t see him as a cheap lay anymore, but what Ozzie said came true, didn’t it? Stolas did give it up – he gave everything up – and it all started because Blitzø was sloppy and got caught, then decided to play along with the bird’s fuck fantasy instead of getting out of there and coming up with a plan B. And that was only because Stolas had called him his ‘first friend’.

Speaking of first friend, seeing Fizz was the other fucked up part of that fucked up night at Ozzie’s. That opened up some old wounds for sure. Thank Satan they figured their shit out. Took a whole-ass kidnapping and explosion, but hey, it was old news now. What mattered was that they were on good terms again.

It was then that the intercom crackled to life, pulling Blitzø from his thoughts and back to the present.

“Elevator 666, departing for Greed in ~oneee minuteee~.”

Blitzø looked up at the electronic display, seeing the elevator schedule. He grinned.

“Nothing’s sexier than coming at the same time. A direct to Greed’s boarding now. We make these!” He grabbed Stolas’ wrist, Stolas letting out a startled hoot, and they hurried towards the elevator on the other side of the hall. Blitzø expertly carved a path through the dense crowd of bodies that were quickly filling up the huge-ass elevator, finding Stolas a comfortable place to stand in the middle. But he quickly realized he didn’t need to do much.

Like at the diner, other passengers were shooting Stolas confused, scared looks, keeping towards the elevator walls while Stolas towered above them, looking around the elevator in delight, clearly taking in every detail of the design. Typical of him to be so focused on fucking architecture or whatever-the-fuck instead of a group of demons gawking at him. Their obvious stares were quickly getting on his nerves.

“What?" he asked, many of the demons flinching in surprise. “Never seen a prince in an elevator? You side-eyeing fucks need to get out more.” Stolas finally noticed the way the demons around them were shifting uncomfortably, now averting their gazes. Blitzø watched his eyes widen a fraction, and then the bird let out an uncomfortable laugh.

“Pay me no mind. We’re just running some errands,” he explained, trying to give the other riders a polite wave. Then his eyes lit up. “Have any of you been to the lovely plant shop by the -?” but they all pretended they couldn’t hear, turning away from Stolas and sweating under his attention. Stolas’ hand fell, slumping his shoulders in disappointment. Blitzø glared at them all, crossing his arms as he stood at Stolas’ side, daring any of these punk-ass demons to mess with his bird.

As the elevator continued its journey three rings down - a tense but uneventful silence hanging over the occupants - Blitzø began sneaking glances at Stolas, drinking in all his little expressions and mannerisms. The way he looked straight ahead, not making eye contact with anyone after being so obviously iced-out. How he fidgeted with his hands, indecisive about if he wanted to clasp them together, or hold his arms to his chest, or play with the gold buttons on his romper, or nervously smooth out his tail feathers. Blitzø noticed the tiny crease between his brows as he thought about who-the-fuck-knew-what. And the subtle, downturned slope of his beak -

Stolas must’ve eventually felt Blitzø’s eyes on him, because he glanced down at him, the corners of his beak turning upwards into a small smile, the crease between his brows disappearing. His gaze slid away a moment later, and he finally decided to clasp his hands in front of him after all, rocking on his heels as he bit back a grin. Blitzø still couldn’t look away.

They’d never ridden in this elevator before. Blitzø and his Stolas. Even in the few weeks they were living together. This…this was something new. It was…nice. Even with the other demons around them being weird-as-fuck. Fine, Stolas was a powerful prince, but they didn’t have to shit themselves for no good reason.

Blitzø started to wonder how his bird would react to a lot of routine things. They’d checked off some of the cliché shit already – grocery shopping, laundry, theft – but this was a stark reminder that there was still a fuck-ton they hadn’t done yet. Maybe, even given the shitty circumstances, there were still things to look forward to. Things that Blitzø could show his Stolas that he’d enjoy.

The elevator stopped, large doors opening, but no one exited. The other demons were clearly waiting for Stolas to leave first, not daring to go ahead of a prince. Stolas didn’t seem to notice, leaving the elevator and walking into the atrium covered in shades of green. But before he began to take it all in, Blitzø watched as he looked over his shoulder, ruby eyes finding Blitzø’s.

“Come on, Blitzy!” he said excitedly, any feelings of awkwardness gone, his warm tone melting the icy chill that’d surrounded them. Blitzø smiled, stepping out of the elevator to return to his side.

“Where to next? Know the way?” he asked, putting his hands on his hips and looking around. All sorts of demons were hurrying around them.

“Yes! It should be just around the corner, if memory serves,” Stolas said confidently, bouncing in excitement now.

“And a tall-ass birdie told me you have a ‘very good’ one,” Blitzø teased. Stolas grinned, giving him a nod. Then he looked around the atrium again, gaze landing on a large, dark green exit door.

“Oh I have not visited this shop in ages! It will be difficult to resist the temptation to buy a few things,” Stolas confessed, walking towards the exit. Blitzø hurried to keep pace, boots clicking against the jade-colored floor.

“Then don’t resist,” Blitzø said with a shrug. “Treat yourself. That’s what today’s for – shit!” He barely dodged a large hellhound who was barreling towards him, hopping to the side just in time. “Hey, watch it dickhead!” Blitzø called after him. The hellhound flipped him off without turning around, quickly disappearing into the crowd. Blitzø clenched his jaw, the spikes on his back flaring out. Why was it so fucking crowded? It'd been a while since it'd been this busy.

“What if…?” Stolas began, then hesitated. “Hmm…oh, nevermind –”

“Spit it out, princey,” Blitzø said good-naturedly, his spikes going back down as he turned to face him. Stolas was back to fidgeting with his hands, and then, to Blitzø’s surprise, he held one out to him.

“What if we held hands on the way there? I am quite a bit taller than most if not all of the demons in here, so...I could…lead the way?” Blitzø continued to stare at him in surprise. Clearly he’d fucked it and took too long to respond because Stolas quickly put his hand on the back of his neck instead, averting his gaze as a blush rose in his cheeks. “Th-that was a joke! M-maybe I should be in the clown business!”

Blitzø grinned, scooping up Stolas’ other hand and interlacing their fingers.

“Nah, you should stick to the stars. You’re too pretty to be a clown.” He gave Stolas a wink. “Lead the way, big bird.” He caught the way Stolas clicked his beak, clearly flustered, and then he nodded his head, leading Blitzø through the crowd. It quickly parted for Stolas, being a prince and all. And a total tall-ass.

“So that’s why you left the circus, in addition to following your dream,” Stolas said a moment later, looking ahead as they made their way through the atrium. Blitzø looked up at him in confusion, and Stolas must’ve felt his gaze, because he gave him a teasing smile. “If one of us is too pretty, it’s you, Blitzy.” Blitzø let out a surprised laugh as Stolas led them through the large exit door and onto the sidewalk.

“I’m not ‘pretty’,” Blitzø replied. “Sexy. Fuckable. A panty wetter. Those are more on the money,” he corrected, a smug smile on his lips. Stolas laughed behind his free hand.

“Eye of the beholder, I suppose. I personally wouldn’t say those adjectives are mutually exclusive.”

“Oh yeah?” Blitzø asked, raising a brow. “Are you tryna tell me you think I’m pretty and bangable?”

“Hm,” Stolas said, biting back his smile as they continued to walk down the street, still hand-in-hand. He said nothing more. Blitzø grinned.

“I definitely wouldn’t be offended if you think I’m all of the above,” he pressed, desperate to hear any ounce of praise from this bird’s lips. But Stolas continued to play coy, leading them around the corner. “C’mon, you’re killing me here. Spit it out –“

“I would much prefer to swallow,” Stolas cut him off primly, flashing him a mischievous look before going back to looking at the street ahead. Blitzø’s tripped over nothing, but Stolas’ hand in his kept him upright.

“I – uh – you – well – I mean –“ Blitzø stuttered out, licking his lips as he tried to ignore the onslaught of horny thoughts that just assaulted his brain. He could feel his palms start to sweat. He hoped to fuck Stolas hadn’t noticed. Then Stolas laughed, not hiding it with his hand this time. It was one of his beautiful, warbling, uninhibited laughs. The one that was pure gold to Blitzø.

“I am talking about keeping certain thoughts to myself, of course,” Stolas said, feigning innocence. “I am not sure where your mind wandered-”

“Ha. You wish you knew where my mind wandered,” Blitzø said with a grin, regaining some of his composure. “You told me –“ he cut himself off. “Uh, I-I mean…I’ve been called creative in the past.” Stolas laughed again, thankfully not seeming to notice Blitzø’s slip-up.

“You know, it’s quite refreshing for you to be the one flustered, for once,” Stolas admitted, a smug smile on his lips, although Blitzø could make out the hint of pink in his downy cheeks. “I look forward to getting that reaction out of you again.”

“You dirty bitch,” Blitzø said, biting back his smile. Stolas giggled. Fuck yeah. This had to be a new record. “Fine. Challenge accepted. I’m gonna try twice as hard to ruffle those pretty feathers, princey. And I like it hard.”

“So do I,” Stolas replied, a teasing glint in his eyes. Blitzø felt something swoop in his stomach. Were they flirting? Was this Stolas flirting with him? “Oh!” Stolas said, coming to an abrupt stop. “We’re here!” He let go of Blitzø’s hand, clapping excitedly as he stood in front of an unassuming store.

Blitzø took a peek at the shop window to see rows and rows of plants of all different shapes, sizes, and colors. It was hard to make out anything else past the dense wall of leaves and flowers.

“Is there a fucking jungle inside?” Blitzø mused. He turned to look back at Stolas, expecting to see that excited expression still on his face. But his smile was gone, his gaze trained on the sidewalk. Blitzø felt a stab of anxiety. “Hey, uh, what’s with that look?”

“It just occurred to me,” Stolas said, looking guilty all of a sudden as he glanced at Blitzø and then quickly looked away. “Was it…when I offered to hold your hand…I did not intend to…I only realize now that…” He began to fidget with his hands as he struggled to explain. “I wasn’t trying to imply that you couldn’t navigate on your own. That you needed my help. You just told me about your aversion to being looked down upon-”

“You’re good,” Blitzø cut him off, holding up a hand to stop him. “It was a good idea. I would’ve cut a bitch who ran into me for no good reason, or any reason, and that would’ve slowed us down.”

“Ah,” Stolas said, nodding. “Good. Well, not you ‘cutting a bitch’, necessarily, although I have no doubt you would do an excellent job at that, but…” he let out an exhale, smiling. “I just wanted you to know that I did not offer my hand because I thought you were incapable of finding your way out on your own.”

“Then why did you?” Blitzø couldn’t help but ask. Stolas’ eyes widened in surprise.

“I…” he began, trailing off. He furrowed his brow. “I suppose…because it is better to struggle through something with someone by your side?” He scoffed. “That sounds silly. And perhaps a tad overdramatic. I just - truly, I just felt like it.” He let out a laugh, his shoulders relaxing. “How impulsive of me.”

“I felt like holding your hand, too, for the record,” Blitzø said with a wink, and Stolas let out an amused puff of air.

“Is this you redoubling your efforts to make me flustered again?” he asked, amusement tugging at the corners of his beak. He stepped up to the shop door, resting a hand on it and looking over his shoulder at Blitzø. “I know you said you like it hard, but you may quickly discover that I like making things even harder.” With that he pushed open the door with a flourish, stepping inside. Blitzø’s jaw dropped as he watched the door swing closed, the small bell above the door jingling.

What. The. Fuck????

Okay, in no universe was this bird straight. Blitzø had finally figured that mystery out, at least. But how the ever-loving fuck was he good at flirting? He shook his head, pushing the door open himself and following in after him.

The warmly lit shop was relatively small and full to the brim with shelves upon shelves of plants. There were tiers of shelves running along the left and right walls, as well as an aisle of plants down the middle. Clusters of shrubs and small trees were tucked into random corners on the floor. The cash register was in the back-left corner of the shop, currently unattended. The place was empty-as-fuck, which made Blitzø wonder how this shop was still in business, but at least they didn’t have to deal with any skittish, gawking demons. He flicked out his tongue, getting a heavy waft of dirt and flowers that made his nostrils twitch.

He quickly spotted Stolas a few yards deeper into the shop. He was leaning forwards to look down at a cluster of plants on the bottom shelf along the lefthand wall, hands clasped together and tucked under his chin. He could hear Stolas’ happy hoots from the shop’s entrance. Blitzø scoffed, heading over to join him.

“Whatcha lookin’ at?” he asked, standing next to him now. There was a row of averaged-sized pots filled with clusters of red pom-pom looking things with large, pointed green and purplish leaves. He was pretty sure he’d never seen plants like these in his life. But he also didn’t really pay attention to this kinda shit.

“These are ricinus communis,” Stolas explained. Because he was bending down to get a good look at them, their faces were parallel and only about a foot apart. Blitzø found his gaze wandering over to Stolas’ expression, seeing the way the bird was drinking in the sight of these plants, ruby eyes wide with excitement. Was this what Stolas meant by the whole ‘eyes shining wonderfully’ thing? He didn’t think his own eyes did something like that, but Stolas…yeah they were pretty wonderful. He did find himself missing those pupils, though.

“Never heard of ‘em,” Blitzø said. “Tell me more.” Stolas looked over at him, smiling even wider, and something swooped in Blitzø’s stomach. He looked back at the plants and shoved his hands in the pockets of his long black coat, feeling nervous all of a sudden.

“What I love about this shop is that they have some of the most fascinating plants from the living world,” Stolas explained. “In my younger years I used to take long trips to the living world, and during such trips I would make time to go exploring for such plants.” He paused. “My responsibilities keep me here, now, so I like to visit this establishment when I have the time.”

“I didn’t know you used to do that,” Blitzø said. Stolas shrugged.

“How could you? I took my first trip a few years after that day we spent together. Mostly during the years before Octavia came into my life.”

“Do you miss it?” Blitzø asked. Stolas’ expression wavered, and he looked back at the plants.

“Sometimes,” he confessed quietly. His eyes widened slightly, as if he was surprised by his own answer. “But extended time in the living world means less time with my daughter, so maybe if I could take her with me…” he paused, brow furrowing. “I suppose I never considered it being a possibility again. It did always make me feel…more at ease.” He let out an uncomfortable laugh, sneaking a quick glance at Blitzø before looking back at the plants again. “That must sound ridiculous to you. A prince needing to feel more at ease. Forget I said that.”

“I –” Blitzø began, but Stolas had already shifted his attention back to the red pom-pom plants.

“These are also referred to as castor oil plants,” he began to explain. “Castor oil has been used in the living world for a variety of purposes. To fuel lamps, in soaps and moisturizers, for medicinal purposes, as lubricant –"

“Lube, eh?” Blitzø asked, interested. He watched Stolas’ cheeks pink, but the bird stubbornly pretended to be unaffected.

“For industrial purposes, Blitzy,” he clarified.

“Didn’t I make it clear before? What I’m working with is definitely industrial-sized.” Blitzø said, pointing at his crotch. Stolas let out a surprised laugh, shaking his head.

“Well I would be careful about putting this plant anywhere near your…” he said, giving his crotch a not-so-slick glance before meeting Blitzø’s eyes. “…large equipment.” He rested a finger on one of those red pom-poms. “The seed from this plant contains a toxin that is incredibly poisonous. If by some miracle it does not kill you, it will cause you extreme pain and discomfort. But most likely it will kill you.”

“Should you be touching it like that then?” Blitzø asked. Stolas shrugged.

“I fair well enough with small doses.” He paused, looking thoughtful. “I suppose if I ate multiple seeds for whatever reason…then I would likely need to be taken to the hospital. But even then, my Goetic constitution would be able to combat the poison. So it wouldn’t kill me.” Blitzø raised a brow.

“And how exactly do ya know you’re fine with small doses?” Stolas let out an awkward laugh, straightening his posture.

“Perhaps I take this hobby very seriously,” he said vaguely. “There is only so much you can learn through books.” Blitzø crossed his arms, leaning his weight on one hip as he looked up at the bird. He narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

“Is that your nerd way of telling me you’ve microdosed poison before? What? For fun?”

“I-I mean…poisoning a royal is not an unheard-of concept,” Stolas defended. “Perhaps I prefer to be prepared! You know, have some level of built-up immunity just in case...”

“How many deadly poisons are we talkin’ here?” Blitzø asked, arms still crossed. Stolas let out another nervous laugh, clasping his hands behind his back.

“W-what do you mean?” Blitzø rolled his eyes.

“Just how ‘prepared’ are you? Have you been microdosing poison on the reg? Or was this a one-time kinda deal?” He glanced over at the deadly red pom-pom plant before looking back up at Stolas.

“Ah.” Stolas said, not meeting Blitzø's gaze. “I have…encountered, a, um, variety, if I am remembering accurately…”

“And you have a very good memory,” Blitzø said stubbornly. “So exactly how many?” He watched as Stolas’ throat bobbed as he swallowed nervously. He looked around the shop.

“Only about…ten…or so.”

“Or so?”

“Fine! Eighteen!” Stolas said, exasperated. “But it is not as though I had some kind of masochistic bender and ingested any poison I could find in one night! I slowly and carefully built up an immunity for one poison every year or two. That is perfectly reasonable!” Blitzø scoffed, shaking his head.

“You’re ridiculous. You willingly poisoned yourself cuz of some corny cliché? I’m an assassin, princey, and I’ve never used poison. There are a helluva lot more reliable ways of killing someone. Like a bullet through the head.”

“Weren’t you the one who said I needed a greater sense of self-preservation?” Stolas pointed out stubbornly, crossing his arms now too. Blitzø opened his mouth to argue, and then he paused. He got him there. But that didn’t mean he liked the idea of Stolas poisoning himself for the past - what? Twenty years? Christ on a stick. Who was he even worried about? Who’d be stupid enough to try and poison a magical prince? Blitzø looked around the shop. There were so many different kinds of plants here. Most of them he didn’t recognize.

“Point ‘em out to me,” Blitzø said, and Stolas’ stubbornness shifted into confusion.

“Point what out?”

“This is where you got those poisons, yeah?” Blitzø said more than asked. He caught the guilt in Stolas’ expression. Clearly Blitzø had hit the nail on the head. “So which ones have ya taken so far?” Stolas looked around and Blitzø followed his gaze. It eventually landed on a plant to their right, on one of the shelves in the middle of the shop. It had light pink, five-petaled flowers. Shit, that dainty little plant was poison?

“The oleander over there,” Stolas began, and then started to make his way deeper into the shop, hands clasped in front of him again. Blitzø followed after him. “Foxglove,” he said, gently dragging his fingertips along the plant with bell-shaped, magenta flowers, which were on a higher shelf on the left-hand wall. “Hemlock, of course,” he said a few moments later, nodding at a planter hanging from the ceiling full of bunches of small, white flowers.

“Of course,” Blitzø said dryly.

“Nightshade was the first that I…acquired,” Stolas continued, gesturing to a plant with dark purple berries on one of the shelves that ran through the middle of the shop. “And sumac – those produce the most uncomfortable rashes,” he said with a grimace, nodding at the plant next to the nightshade as he rubbed his arm. It had clusters of pine-coned-shaped, red flowers. “This shrub here is known as a ‘yew’,” he continued, pointing at the spiky-looking green plant on the floor at the very back wall, near the cash register. “Humans love putting these in their yards, even though it can harm their feeble nervous systems.” He was getting excited again as he explained everything he knew, as if he forgot that he was listing all the poisons he’d taken.

“Did it harm yours?” Blitzø asked. Stolas shook his head.

“Only made me a tad unsteady for an hour or so,” he offered with a shrug. “Nothing serious.”

“Right,” Blitzø said, frowning.

“Oh! I almost forgot about this one!” Stolas said, hurrying over to the shelves on the right-hand wall. He stopped in front of a plant with white flowers with purple centers. “Due to the shape of the flowers, and its ability to cause intense, occasionally occult visions if ingested, this is known as the devil’s trumpet.” Blitzø barked out a laugh.

“I pegged Satan as more of a sax guy.”

“I imagine he could do wonders on the guitar,” Stolas said with a small, teasing smile. Blitzø grinned, but then his grin fell. It was sinking in that there were basically surrounded by poisons that Stolas had used on himself.

Who knew that things that looked so objectively pretty could do so much damage?

“So if you forgot about this one," Blitzø said, nodding at the devil's trumpet, "does that mean we’re talkin’ eighteen poisons? Or is it really nineteen?” Stolas’ smile fell too.

“It may be nineteen,” he confessed. “Some have extremely mild effects, though,” he quickly added when he saw Blitzø’s expression. “One of them is not even much of a poison, but more of an aphrodisiac –”

“Shit, really?” Blitzø asked, raising his brows as his mood lifted, biting back his smile. Stolas’ eyes widened, realizing what he just said. His face flushed red.

“O-oh w-well, you know, when we needed to – when we were trying to – when Stella and I were in the process of – “ Stolas tried to explain, stumbling over his words.

“Take a breath, princey. We got all day,” Blitzø said, trying to put him at ease. But he winced as he heard the words come out of his mouth. They had all day. And only one day, based on the lie Blitzø told. Depending on how long it took him to figure this shit out, maybe it really was one day. Or even shorter. But Stolas didn’t seem to notice his wording, following Blitzø’s advice and taking a deep breath, placing his hand against his chest. Only a pink tinge remained in his cheeks.

“The gingko biloba is one of the oldest living tree species,” Stolas began to explain. “It has these beautiful, fan-shaped leaves.” He paused, running nervous hands through his tail feathers. “And when you are trying to conceive an heir, it can…help make the process...easier.” He let out a strained laugh. “If only you witnessed the variety of aphrodisiacs I ingested or burned. It was quite a process.” Blitzø swallowed thickly. Yeah, he wished he was there for that little experiment.

“So you had trouble getting it up,” he paraphrased. “Or getting it open, I guess.” Stolas had never had that problem with Blitzø, something he couldn’t help but feel smug about. It did make him wonder what it’d be like if they tried some of that shit out, though.

Stolas flushed and begging under him, even more than usual. The beautiful bird ready and open, whining for him to stick it in. Long legs wrapped around him and talons scrapping along his back for purchase as Blitzø gave it to him good…fuck, why hadn’t they thought of that before? It's not like they hadn't done a shit-ton of other crazy things in the bedroom. Were Stolas’ ramblings about his plants his way of broaching the subject? Damn. He really should’ve paid more attention back then.

Then he noticed the flush that'd returned on this Stolas’ face. He was holding arms to his chest and looking at the floor.

“S-speaking of my heir, I should give Octavia a call and let her know of our plans,” he said. “I… I will step out for a moment and return.”

“Sure…I’ll wait here I guess,” Blitzø said. He tried to keep his tone casual, but he found himself searching Stolas’ expression. He seemed more than flustered, like Blitzø had poked at something more serious. “You good?” he blurted out without thinking. Stolas lifted his gaze to meet his, looking surprised. His face was still flushed.

“Oh, um, yes, of course…” he said, letting out an awkward laugh. It was such an obvious lie. Blitzø frowned.

“If you’re not, if I go too far…call me out on my shit, ‘kay? Sometimes I…” hit too hard, sometimes on purpose, sometimes not. He wasn’t sure which was worse. “I can be a real dickhead. But I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable.” Stolas’ shoulders relaxed slightly. He gave Blitzø a nod.

“Deal.” He paused, worrying at his bottom lip with his beak. “I would rather not speak about it. Not here, at least,” he confessed. He hesitated again. “You did not…I do not -” he let out a sigh, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them again. “Do not blame yourself for my reaction. I certainly do not.” He let out a laugh, one that sounded half-amused, half-bitter. “You barely know me, after all.”

He knew Stolas was trying to reassure him, but that last part felt like a sucker punch to the gut. Even so, the bird had a point. He didn’t know this Stolas. He thought he knew his Stolas, but when he really thought about it, how much did he actually know? Did his Stolas used to poison himself, too?

“I’d like to know more,” Blitzø blurted out, hearing the raw sincerity in his own words. He resisted the urge to cringe. Stolas looked at him in surprise, beak opened slightly. Then a small smile formed there.

“More than lube and aphrodisiacs?” he teased, although there was a vulnerability in his tone, in the way he held his arms to his chest. Blitzø scoffed.

“Yeah, more than that,” he confirmed. “If...ya know, you’re cool with that.” Stolas blinked a few times, nervously rubbing his arm with his hand.

“I am…cool, with that,” he said. “Considerably ‘cool’.” Blitzø laughed.

“Good. Go call your daughter and come back. I wanna know about the plants you like here that aren't poisonous.” Stolas smiled, dropping his arms and bouncing a little.

“Okay!” Blitzø watched him hurry out of the shop, pulling out his phone from somewhere within his cape. The bell above the door jingled as it closed behind him. Blitzø exhaled, shoulders slumping as a silence fell over the empty shop.

Trying not to fuck up was easier said than done. And he wasn’t sure if he was even doing a decent job.

“He’s never come here with someone else before,” a voice said. 

“Fuck!” Blitzø spun around to see a baphomet standing behind the cash register near the back-left corner of the shop. He had on a dark green apron and a maroon long-sleeved shirt. His wavy green hair was sticking up in weird angles, like he just rolled out of bed. “Satan’s dickhole. How long were you standing there?”

“I was taking a nap under the counter,” the baphomet explained, blinking his green goat-eyes sleepily. “It was a slow day until you two showed up.”

“So you’re his poison supplier?” Blitzø asked, nodding at the door Stolas just left through. The bapohmet shrugged. Blitzø considered him, leaning his weight on one hip. “Must be weird having a prince stroll into this place like any other customer.”

“Yeah, I guess,” the baphomet said. “Most royals get their shit delivered. His highness is pretty cool, though. Excitable-as-fuck about plants, which caught me off guard at first. But he knows more than any other rando who comes into this place. Most people are looking for cheesy bouquets for their fuck-buddies.” Blitzø scoffed.

“Simps.” The bapohmet raised a brow.

“You’re one to talk. I heard that sappy convo.” Blitzø made a choking noise, then put a hand on his holster.

“If you don’t want a bullet between those beady eyes you better forget whatever you think you heard, bitch,” he warned. The baphomet raised up his hands in surrender, although he didn’t look all that concerned.

“I run my business with the highest discretion. Besides, I don’t give enough of a fuck to commit your soap opera bullshit to memory.” Blitzø nodded, satisfied. Then he heard the bell jingle again.

He headed over to the front of the shop, ready to ask Stolas how his call went. But then he stopped when he saw who’d entered instead, eyes widening in surprise.

Chapter Text

Fizz was standing by the door, nervously rolling back-and-forth on the wheels on his boots as he looked around. He was wearing one of his old clown outfits – purple and white striped sleeves and pants, pink frock-thing, neck ruff – the whole shebang. Weird. Blitzø thought he ditched the clown getup after he told that green bitch to suck it. Guess he’d have to add it to the long list of things that made no fucking sense.

He watched as Fizz smoothly rolled towards the back of the shop, braking at the cash register. He hadn’t noticed Blitzø yet, who was standing on the other side of the shelves that ran through the middle of the shop. Blitzø crept down the aisle, peeking around a large leaf sticking out from the shelf, giving him some cover as he eavesdropped. Unlike Stolas, Fizz wasn’t the type to pop into plant shops without a specific reason.

“I’m lookin’ for some flowers,” Fizz told the shop owner. “We’re talkin’ a faaaaancy bouquet. I’m tryna pull out all the stops here.” He slid his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, putting his elbow on the counter and flashing a grin. “Can ya help a celebrity out?” Blitzø let out a quiet scoff, a fond, relieved smile spreading on his lips.

So far he’d been trying to deal with this weird fuckery on his own. Sure, he probably could explain everything to this Stolas and he’d help him figure it out. He felt pretty confident that this Stolas wouldn’t turn him to stone or whatever other magic bullshit he could do if Blitzø fessed up about lying. And yet he still couldn’t bring himself to do it. Because he didn’t wanna to pull this Stolas into his mess, even if this version of the bird wasn’t real. Because he’d done enough of that with his Stolas. His Stolas had already bailed Blitzø out a number of times.

But he was confident that Fizz could help him figure out what the fuck was going on. Hallucination or not, Fizz had always been a good person to bounce ideas off of. And very few people knew Blitzø as well as Fizz did. Maybe he could even convince Fizz to help him keep his stupid ‘clown’ charade going.

He felt something loosen in his chest. He relaxed his shoulders. Fuck. He hadn’t realized he’d been so on edge.

“Hey dickhead!” he called out good-naturedly, stepping out from behind the big leaf and closing the distance between them. He threw an arm around Fizz’s shoulders, giving him a grin. “Just the clown I’d been wanting to see.”

Fizz rolled back on his wheels in surprise, almost toppling over as his robotic arms waved wildly. Blitzø moved to keep him steady, putting a hand on Fizz’s chest.

“Easy there, Fizz. It’s just me.”

Fizz shoved Blitzø away from him, rolling backwards to put a few feet of distance between them and crossing his arms. He glanced over at the shop owner, who was blinking at both of them, not looking particularly bothered. Then Fizz pushed his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose, shifting his attention back to Blitzø.

“Just you?” He let out a laugh with an acidic bite. “Long time, no see. Blitzo. How ‘bout you go eat shit and die?” Blitzø eyes widened. Okaaaay. Not the reaction he was expecting. What had his polka-dot panties in a twist? Then he realized.

“Shit, right. My bad, Fizz.” He began rubbing the back of his neck. “But I’m fine, see? If anyone can get outta getting their head chopped off on TV, it’s me.” He put his other hand on his hip, letting out a sheepish laugh. “Imagine how fucking embarrassing that woulda been. No way I’d let that be the way I go out.”

Fizz had sent him a flurry of panicked texts that he only saw the morning after that crazy trial went down. They were supposed to meet up so he could catch Fizz up to speed on what in Satan’s taint happened, but he’d been so busy with Stolas and with work that he kept putting it off. He wasn’t that much of an asshole not to feel a little guilty. And clearly Fizz was pissed.

Fizz’s glare dropped for a second, a flash of concern in his expression, but it disappeared as quickly as it came, glare returning.

“What the ever-loving shit are you talking about?” Blitzø dropped his hands, eyes widening slightly.

“The fuck? You don’t remember the trial either?” Fizz looked at him in confusion, still clearly pissed.

“What? Finally get caught doing illegal shit?” he asked, rolling his eyes. “I don’t keep tabs on selfish assholes -”

“Woah woah woah,” Blitzø said, holding his hands out. “Help me out here, Fizz, cuz I’m confused. What the hell do you remember?” Fizz scoffed.

“That’s a vague-as-fuck question –”

“Okay. Fine. Why’re you coming at me with this dickhead energy?” Blitzø asked instead. “We’ve been good since that whole kidnapping thing –”

“Kidnapping?” Fizz asked, shaking his head in disbelief. “Did you get brain damage in the last fifteen years? Or were you always this crazy and I just forgot?”

“Fifteen years?” Blitzø asked, shaking his head in confusion. He furrowed his brow, and then his expression fell, gaze flicking back to look at Fizz. “What about what happened at Loo Loo Land? You gotta remember hearing about that. Or, shit, what about what went down at Ozzie’s -?”

“Ozzie’s? W-why’re you bringing up my boy –?” Fizz began. Then his eyes widened. “My business partner! My very typical and professional and non-sexual business partner that I recently started working with!” His voice was strained, words coming out in a panicked rush. He then seemed to realize how he sounded, and hastily pushed his sunglasses even further up his nose, crossing his arms and turning on his wheels so he wasn’t fully facing Blitzø. But Blitzø could still clock the furious blush on his cheeks.

Oh. Blitzø was pretty sure he knew why Fizz was acting like he hated his guts.

Because he did hate Blitzø’s guts. Because, from Fizz’s perspective, they hadn’t made up yet. They hadn’t even run into each other at Ozzie’s yet. Not for the first time, Blitzø pinched himself. This was too vivid to be a dream, but then why did it feel like such a fucking nightmare? Spending the day with a Stolas who barely knew him was confusing enough. But at least this Stolas still seemed to like him. This Fizz? Not so much.

It wasn’t a new experience, at least. Not being on speaking terms was the norm for fifteen years. It was a reality Blitzø had slowly gotten used to over time. But now that he knew what it was like to be friends again, Fizz glaring at him now filled him with an anxiety he was quickly realizing he wasn’t equipped to handle. Whatever mess Blitzø was in, whether this was real or not, he didn’t want Fizz to hate him.

“L-look, Fizz…” Blitzø began, although he had no idea what the fuck he should say in order to fix this. All he knew was that he needed to fix this. So why was it so impossible to come up with something to say? Why did he never know what to do when it counted? Why was he so useless?

There was one time, back at the circus, when his dad made him balance a shit-ton of spinning plates on wooden rods. He did okay at first, surprisingly, but his dad being the grade-A dickwad he was kept adding more and more plates, the crowd cheering him on. Eventually Blitzø had reached his breaking point, literally, and all the plates came crashing down around him. After the audience cleared out, he had to spend the night picking up every broken piece with his bare hands. Fizz had snuck over to keep him company. He’d even offered to help, but Blitzø had stubbornly refused it.

Because it was his fault. The plates wouldn’t have dropped if he’d been better. So he had to be the one to pick up the broken pieces. Fizz was already perfect. He didn’t fuck up like Blitzø did. He would’ve been able to keep them all spinning for as long as he had to.

“Fizz, I don’t know what’s going on and I –” Blitzø tried to explain, taking a step towards him. But Fizz quickly rolled backwards, suspicion written all over his face. Then he looked down at Blitzø’s wrist, eyes widening.

“How'd you get that?” Fizz asked, and Blitzø realized he was looking at his crystal. “You asshole, did you break into Ozzie’s place and –?”

“No! The fuck? This was…this was given to me –”

“Someone must’ve pulled some bullshit then, cuz Ozzie’s knows that I – he cares about how I –” he cut himself off, biting his tongue. Blitzø caught him looking at a bouquet of baby blue flowers behind the counter. “Whatever. I didn’t come here to listen to your weird bullshit.” He lifted up his chin stubbornly, although Blitzø saw something in his expression twist. “You’ve been more than fine staying out of my life this long, so how about you fuck off and I can –”

“Ahem.”

Like a shadow, Stolas was suddenly looming over Fizz. Blitzø watched with wide eyes as Stolas looked down at Fizz with a severe, predatory glare, magic crackling around him and ruby eyes glowing. Shit. When did he come back inside? Blitzø had been so distracted that he hadn’t heard the bell at the door.

“Do we have a problem?” Stolas asked, tilting his head slightly.

“Damn. Your life really is a soap opera,” the baphomet whispered, cupping his hand to his mouth and leaning over in Blitzø’s direction, eyes glued on Stolas and Fizz.

“Heeeey, it’s cool, princey,” Blitzø said quickly, getting between the two of them and looking up at Stolas. He gently pushed Fizz, rolling him away to put some more distance between them. “This’s just – it’s actually kinda funny – ya see…” he trailed off, struggling to come up with an explanation.

Fizz hating him again had unearthed a lot of feelings he’d buried. Because what was the point in facing them after they’d already made up? Waste of fucking time, in his opinion. And the two of them had already wasted so much time. All those years of no contact for such a bullshit reason. Having to deal with the grief of losing his mom alone. Having to live with the fact that he hurt his best friend, his first crush, and then ran away when Fizz needed him–

It began to feel like those spinning plates were closing in around him again, and he realized he was holding onto his skull pendant at his neck. He let go of it as if he’d been burned. He was fine. He’d deal with this. He just needed to be better.

“It very much does not seem cool, Blitzy,” Stolas pressed, the severity in his stare softening as he directed his attention to Blitzø. “Is this not an obvious case of someone being an asshole for no reason? You said yourself that you would…what was it? ‘Cut a bitch’ for simply bumping into you. And yet this rude imp is berating you for what appears to me to be no reason at all, and you are just…okay with it?”

“Blitzy?” Fizz said with a scoff, tone thick with malice. Blitzø turned to face him, stubbornly trying to ignore the way his cheeks warmed with embarrassment. “Didn’t peg ya for the type to be fucking with royalty. Did your shitty business finally crash and burn and you’re some kinda pet now?” Blitzø caught Fizz glance at Stolas before looking back at Blitzø, raising a brow. “Ohhh. Or are you literally fucking with royalty?” He looked back at Stolas. “Watch your back, your highness. This prick has a habit of stabbing you in the back when you least expect it. He’s probably planning on stealing your shit. He’s done it before. Right Blitzo?”

“At least I wasn’t dumb enough to stay in the clown business and let some greedy bastard exploit the fuck outta me like I’m some kinda shitty doormat any asshole can walk over,” Blitzø shot back, his frustration reaching a breaking point. “And who’re you to comment on whatever royal bird I might or might not be fucking when you’re getting your own share of royal chicken dick!”

Fizz always knew the right buttons to press to piss him the fuck off. Blitzø, on the other hand, had a habit of hitting the big red button you weren’t supposed to press. Seeing the way Fizz’s expression fell, he had a feeling that’s exactly what he just did. Not only that, but Fizz’s expression was clearly screaming: ‘how do you know that?’

Shit. What was he doing? Time to backpedal the fuck outta this.

“I meaaaan, you’ve always loved those fancy rubber chickens so much, ya know, cuz you’re a clown or whatever…” he said weakly. It sounded stupid-as-fuck to him, but he saw the subtle relief in Fizz’s expression.

“Ah, so you are a clown,” Stolas said, still standing behind Blitzø. “I can understand why. Unlike Blitzy, you are not so easy on the eyes.” Fizz’s brows raised, jaw dropping.

“W-what did you just say?” Fizz sputtered out, looking between Blitzø and Stolas.

“I thought I was being quite articulate,” Stolas sniffed. “Ugly dispositions have a habit of affecting someone’s outward appearance. You seem to demonstrate that case quite well.” Blitzø watched as he wiggled his fingers in Fizz’s direction, his tone seeping with pettiness.

“Demons love me,” Fizz said, pointing to himself. He scoffed, putting his hands on his hips and giving Stolas a once-over. “Anybody love you, your highness? I’ve heard the rumors. Your own wife hates your sorry guts. Not a good look.” Stolas grew quiet, and Blitzø turned to look at him. He saw the way Stolas held his arms to his chest, suddenly interested in the floor tiles. “Tch. Thought so.” Stolas furrowed his brow, staying silent. “Shit. And now I’m gonna be late for my meeting with Mammon.” Blitzø turned back to look at Fizz in surprise. Fizz was looking down at his phone.

“You’re working with that shitbag again?” Blitzø asked. Fizz rolled his eyes.

“I’ve been working with him, idiot. Apparently he has some great new idea for a toy to sell.” He sounded less than thrilled.

“Fuck that. Miss the meeting,” Blitzø blurted out. Fizz looked at him in surprise. “You don’t need him, Fizz,” he doubled down. Fizz hesitated, but then his surprise quickly shifted into suspicion.

“What? You want me to fuck over my dreams like you did? Not gonna happen. Call me a doormat all ya want, but unlike you, I’m going somewhere.” He let out a bitter laugh. “And I’m going towards something, not running away like a cowardly dickbag. Ring a bell?” Blitzø heard the acid in his tone, the bitterness, but also the sadness, all fueled by years of built-up resentment. Resentment Blitzø couldn’t even blame him for.

Because Blitzø did run away. And when he was told that Fizz didn’t want to see him, he chose to believe it. He didn’t fight for their friendship. He ran away a second time, and just kept running until the two of them got kidnapped and they were forced to get their shit together.

“Fizz –” he began, hearing the emotion in his own voice. Fizz must’ve heard it too, because he gave Blitzø a wary, confused look. “I just – I didn’t mean to –” he was struggling to find the words to explain. Where the fuck should he even start? Then Fizz’s phone rang.

“Fuck,” Fizz cursed under his breath, staring down at the screen. He looked scared. It seemed like he was about to answer it, but then he looked back up at Blitzø, uncertainty written all over his expression. Then his gaze flicked over to Stolas before returning to Blitzø, the uncertainty gone. “Nice catching up, Blitzy. Let’s not do this again, yeah?” Before Blitzø could respond Fizz wheeled across the shop and towards the door, phone pressed against his ear. “Yes, I-I am so so sorry, Mammon. I’m on my way right now –” The bell above the door jingled. Blitzø watched through the shop window as Fizz sped down the street, quickly disappearing from view.

“I must say, that was certainly one of the ruder imps I have ever met,” Stolas said, shaking his head in disapproval. “And I thought the waitress from the diner was a rare case.” Blitzø gave him a tired look.

“Probably cuz he’s one of the few imps you’ve met that isn’t working for you, princey.”

“Oh,” Stolas said quietly, expression suddenly pensive. He looked over at the baphomet, who nodded. Then the baphomet busied himself with organizing the packets of seeds on the counter, pretending not to eavesdrop. Blitzø rolled his eyes, and then he noticed Stolas looking at him, hesitation written all over his expression. “You…um, seemed to know him,” he broached, nodding towards the front of the shop.

“Yeah,” Blitzø said. He didn’t feel like explaining any more than that. This was one of his messes. Stolas didn’t need to be dragged into it. And honestly, he still had whiplash from that whole shitshow, and didn’t feel like dissecting it in the middle of a plant shop with a random, nosy baphomet gawking at them. “How’d your call go?” he asked, deciding the best move was to change the subject. Stolas opened his mouth, brow furrowed, and then he clasped his hands together, giving him a small nod.

“Octavia needs a bit more time to get ready, but she plans on joining us soon. I offered to take her to this shop nearby. She has recently taken an interest in taxidermy. Not a subject I personally ever desired to know more about, but I do believe that hobbies are something to be fostered,” he rambled, tapping a taloned foot against the floor.

“Right,” Blitzø said distractedly. As much as he wanted to ignore it for now, he couldn’t stop thinking about the way he just left things with Fizz. There was something he needed to look into, a new sense of dread tugging at his insides. He needed to know if this line led to where he thought it did. “How ‘bout we meet up later, then?”

“Oh. You plan to leave?” Stolas asked, voice thick enough with disappointment to make Blitzø feel guilty. “I assumed we would be together for the full 24 hours…”

“I won’t be gone long! Promise! I just…thought I’d go grab Loonie so she could join us on our trip.”

“Loonie? I don’t think I am familiar…” Stolas began. Blitzø’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Right, yeah. My daughter,” Blitzø explained. Stolas’ expression immediately brightened.

“You neglected to tell me that you have a daughter as well!” He clapped his hands. “How old is she?”

“Around Octavia’s age, actually. A few years older.” 

“Wow! How exciting! I have been wanting my princess to meet more demons her age,” Stolas confessed with a smile. “It is just so troublesome when you’re rich – most demons either want us for our money, or for our bodies.”

“Yeeaahhhh, you don’t have to worry about Loona. I have a feeling they’ll get along,” Blitzø offered, remembering Loona saying something about Octavia being  ‘cool’ when they got back to their apartment after that goose chase (owl chase?) in the living world.

“Excellent!” Stolas said, letting out a happy hoot. “Wow! We are both fathers! I suppose we really have grown up since we last saw each other,” he mused. “Does that mean…” he hesitated. “Ah, nevermind.”

“What?” Blitzø asked, blinking at him in curiosity. He noticed Stolas glance at the shop owner who was still organizing seed packets. He shifted on his talons self-consciously.

“Oh, forget I said anything. I was going to ask a personal question,” Stolas confessed. “But that would be impolite of me.” He fidgeted with his hands, looking at the floor before meeting Blitzø’s gaze. “Would you like to help me pick out a plant to bring home? Or, apologies, maybe you are in a rush to go check in with your daughter –”

“Nah, I was gonna keep ya company until Octavia got here,” Blitzø said with a wave of his hand, and the happy smile Stolas gave him finally pulled a smile out of him as well, easing some of the anxiety twisting in his chest. He looked around the shop again, and his eyes landed on one plant in particular he recognized. He walked over to the right-hand side of the shop, walking along the line of shelves and stopping halfway. He bent down to get a better look at the medium-sized potted plant on the ground. “You like these chompy ones, yeah?” He watched as the plant wiggled and snapped its jaws, its many eyes blinking up at him.

“I do!” Stolas said, moving to join him. “But…how did you know that?” Shit, he slipped up again.

“I mean, you have them all over your palace. I’d be a dumbass if I didn’t notice. Assassins are observant,” he said, impressed by his own improv.

“Oh, of course. That makes sense.” Stolas reached a tentative hand towards the plant, and Blitzø was about to grab it, worried the plant would move to bite, but it rubbed up against Stolas’ fingers happily instead. Huh. Talk about a green thumb. He glanced over to see the small smile on Stolas’ face. “Do you keep any plants in your place of residence?” He asked, still focused on the plant.

“Me? Nah. My apartment’s small, and I’m shit at taking care of plants.” Then a thought occurred to him. Should he get some plants for his Stolas? Stolas would probably be more than happy to take care of ‘em. And maybe it’d make the apartment feel more like home to him. “Do you, uh…hypothetically speaking, obviously, but let’s say you ever moved outta that big fancy palace…how would ya feel if your new place didn’t have any plants?”

“Hmmm, well it is hard to imagine ever moving,” Stolas began, moving his hand away from the plant to tap a talon against his chin thoughtfully, “but I suppose if such consequences arose…it would feel quite sad, not to have my plants around me. Some of my plants in particular I have had since I was an owlet. Much like the stars, they are part of who I am.”

Damn. Blitzø should’ve realized this sooner with his Stolas. Of course his bird would be too polite to say anything. He was gonna fill the fire escape with Stolas’ favorite plants when he got the chance.

He needed to make up from being the reason Stolas lost so many parts of himself.

“Can I ask you a question, in turn?” Stolas asked, voice quiet, and Blitzø looked over at him in surprise.

“Sure, I guess. Is it that personal one you didn’t wanna ask me earlier?” he teased. Stolas blushed.

“Not the same question, no, but it may be a tad personal,” he confessed.

“Shoot. Maybe I’ll answer it,” Blitzø said with a shrug. Stolas ran his hands through his tail feathers nervously, brow furrowed.

“I am still finding it difficult to understand why you let that imp be so mean to you. What led to that decision?”

‘Because I deserved it,’ Blitzø immediately thought.

“He’s…an old friend,” Blitzø said vaguely. “And things are…” he sighed, “things are complicated between us right now.”

“And you do things you do not wish to do so that your friends can be happy,” Stolas said, referencing their conversation back at the diner. Blitzø’s eyes widened. Then he quickly averted his gaze, looking back at the potted plant that was snapping its jaws as if it was laughing at him. “Then feel free to be mean to me,” Stolas said. Blitzø flicked his gaze over to him, now even more surprised. A hand was pressed against the bird’s chest, a stubborn expression on his face. “Because you should get a turn. I am under the impression that friendship is supposed to function as a two-way street. Would you not agree?”

“I’m not gonna be mean to you for no reason,” Blitzø said, rolling his eyes. “I’m pretty sure that’s not in the clown-for-a-day job description. If anything, it’d be the first thing you’re not supposed to do.”

“Right, of course,” Stolas said, dropping the hand on his chest. He looked deflated. Blitzø sighed.

“I’m fine. Don’t sweat it, ‘kay princey?” He crossed his arms, leaning his weight on one hip as his gaze drifted over to the shop window. “I’d be a weak bitch if I couldn’t handle a few jabs.”

“Hmm. Yes, I see. Perhaps I was reading too much into the exchange. Obviously you can handle some barbed remarks from a clown. Words are simply words after all.” Stolas furrowed his brow, looking down at the plant as it blinked back at him. “They can only hurt you as much as you let them.” He said that last part quietly, as if he was saying it more to himself than to Blitzø.

“Exaaactly,” Blitzø agreed. “It’s whatevs."

“Whatevs,” Stolas repeated with a nod. He exhaled, smiling again. “What a silly abbreviation –”

A glowing purple gash suddenly appeared farther down the aisle near the door, opening up to reveal Octavia standing in the middle of her room, grimoire in hand. Blitzø watched as she stepped through the portal, the circle of squiggly light closing and disappearing. She was wearing her usual clothes, at least in Blitzø’s experience. Black beanie with a small tiara, pink choker and long pink dress with yellow stars, black leggings and a black cardigan. And that less-than-thrilled expression that tied the outfit together.

“Princess!” Stolas said excitedly, hurrying over to wrap an arm around her shoulders, squishing his cheek against hers as he let out excited hoots.

“Daaaaad,” Octavia groaned, but she didn’t pull away from him. “You promised to be cool in public.”

“Right. Cool. I can be very cool,” Stolas said with a nod, giving Octavia a squeeze before taking a half-step away from her. “I am just so excited for our day together!” Octavia shot Blitzø a suspicious glance before looking back at her dad.

“Yeah, you said something about a trip to the living world? Some sort of surprise you seemed convinced that I would like?”

“Yes! Oh you will adore what Blitzy has planned!” Stolas promised.

“Blitz-y?” Octavia repeated, looking over at Blitzø again. “Not that I cared enough to remember, but didn’t you two make a whole deal about how your name ends?”

“It’s Blitzø,” Blitzø clarified.

“Blitzy is a nickname!” Stolas explained, beaming. “Just something fun that old friends do, Via. And speaking of frieeeends-” he was bouncing a little now, looking back and forth between Blitzø and Octavia. “Blitzø will be bringing his own daughter along for our little adventure! She’s about your age!” Octavia groaned.

“Is this your way of setting up a playdate?” she accused. “I’m almost 18, Dad, I can make my own friends –”

“Of course you can. I know that, darling,” Stolas assured her, putting a hand on her arm. “Who wouldn’t want to be friends with someone as smart and talented and kind and funny and beautiful as you?” Octavia rolled her eyes.

“Thanks,” she said dryly, although Blitzø caught the way she was biting back her exasperated smile. “What’ve you two been up to, anyway? You said something about a sticky diner –”

“Oh yeah, I put a food baby in him,” Blitzø said proudly. He’d noticed the outward curve of Stolas’ stomach when they’d left the diner. They’d eaten a shit-ton of food. He couldn’t help the smug grin on his face as he thought about it. But this bird was still so skinny. That’s what made his full stomach obvious.

Octavia’s eyes widened and Stolas let out a surprised squawk.

“You put a what in me?” he asked, putting his hands on his stomach. Blitzø was confused by his reaction, and then he realized. He started to laugh, clutching his own stomach.

“It’s an expression, princey,” Blitzø explained. “We ate a ton of food. I have one, too,” he said, patting his stomach.

“O-oh, I-I see,” Stolas said, removing his hands from his own stomach, a flush on his face.

“Looks like I managed to fluster ya,” Blitzø pointed out, flashing him a victorious grin. Stolas scoffed, trying to look displeased as he was clearly biting back his grin.

“I regret asking,” Octavia said flatly, giving Blitzø a wary once-over before shifting her attention back to her dad. “Are we going to that taxidermy shop now? You told me that’s what we’re doing.”

“Yes! That is next on our itinerary!” Stolas declared, putting his fist in his palm as he got back to business. He looked over at Blitzø. “You won’t be too long, yes?” Blitzø watched him look over at the shop window. “The day is passing so quickly…”

“I usually like to take my time, but I’ll be quick,” Blitzø said, giving him a wink and catching Octavia’s grimace out of the corner of his eye. “I’ll give ya a call and we can regroup once I run the plan by Loona.”

“Good idea,” Stolas said, walking back over to Blitzø. Blitzø looked at him in confusion.

“Whattaya doing? Lookin’ for a hug goodbye?”

“Oh, um, well, I thought that…shouldn’t we exchange numbers?” Stolas explained, pulling his phone out from somewhere within his cape. He let out a nervous laugh. “It will be difficult to give me a call otherwise.”

“But I already…” Blitzø began, then shook his head. He pulled his phone out of his coat pocket, turning it on and going to his contacts. He held it out to Stolas. “Right. Duh. Gimme them digits, princey.” Stolas’ white cheeks became a shade pinker as he took Blitzø’s phone. A moment later he furrowed his brow.

“Do you…already have my number?” Stolas asked. Blitzø quickly took the phone back from him, seeing the contact name ‘Stols’. So his phone was normal. Good to know.

“Noooooo that’s just…some other guy I know,” Blitzø lied through his teeth. “Guess you have similar names. Weird coincidence. Anywaaaaay, I’ll type your number in, so start telling me those sexy digits – any 6’s or 9’s?” Blitzø already knew that Stolas' number did have a six and a nine, right next to each other, which he thought was fucking hilarious when Stolas gave him his number the first time.

“Are those two numbers especially sexy?” Stolas asked, blinking at him. Octavia groaned.

“Don’t answer that!” she said, shooting Blitzø a warning look. Blitzø suppressed his grin.

“Nah. I just like ‘em for no particular reason at all.”

“Hmm, okay,” Stolas said, slightly suspicious but deciding to let it go. He began reciting his number, and Blitzø pretended to listen as he typed it in, already knowing Stolas’ number by heart. He knew Moxxie would be an overdramatic piece of shit if he found out that Blitzø memorized Stolas’ number and not his. Good thing that bitch wasn’t here right now.

“You will call me once you and Loona are ready to join us?” Stolas asked. Blitzø could see the anxiety in his expression.

“Hey, I’m not bailing on ya,” Blitzø assured him, putting his phone back in his coat pocket. “I’ll be back, ‘kay? I promise.” Stolas nodded, wringing his hands. Then he took a breath, giving Blitzø a small smile.

“Okay. Then we shall we see you and your daughter later. I look forward to meeting her.” Blitzø’s expression softened at that. He watched as Stolas walked back over to Octavia, looping his arm through hers. “Until then, Blitzy!” Blitzø scoffed, putting a hand on his hip and waving with his other as the two of them left the shop, the bell on the door jingling.

“Your life is a fucking rollercoaster, huh?” the baphomet observed. Blitzø flinched, quickly turning to face him.

“Satan’s asshole, I keep forgetting you’re here." The baphomet shrugged.

“It does feel like I’ve been reduced to some background character,” he agreed. “But hey, I do have one plot device I can help you out with.”

“A what-now?” Blitzø asked. The baphomet sighed. Then he opened a drawer behind the counter, rummaging through it. A few moments later he pulled out a red packet, wiggling it in the air. Blitzø walked over to get a closer look, putting his hands on the counter and leaning forward. It was then that he noticed the baphomet’s name tag.

“This from your secret drug supply, Terrance?” Blitzø asked, reading off the name tag.

“I don’t like you that much,” the baphomet, Terrance, said. “This is a packet of seeds. They’re fancy ones, too. They grow into flowers that’re like these roses in the living world, but they’re a rad pink and orange color. These are pretty rare.”

“And why exactly are ya giving these to me? Is this where you ask me to suck your dick or something, you freak -?”

“Spare me.” Terrance rolled his eyes. “His highness had been asking me if I had any of these the last time he was here. I didn’t. But now I do. So pass ‘em on for me.”

“For free?”

“Fuck no,” Terrance said. “I’m running a business here, not a charity. But I’ll give ya a discount. Since it’s for my most loyal customer.” He held out the packet of seeds, and Blitzø took them, still suspicious.

“That’s it? No catch?”

“What? Do you wanna suck my dick?” Terrance asked, raising a brow. Then he smirked. “I got the sense there’s someone else you wanna get off.” Blitzø glared at him.

“Your memory’s pretty good, huh?” he said, reaching for his gun again. Terrance laughed.

“Okay, okay. Got it. I won’t say anything else. Just slip me a cool twenty and you’ve bought these seeds and my silence.” Blitzø considered that.

“Deal,” he said, pulling a $20 bill out of his wallet and sliding it across the counter and towards Terrance. Then he slipped the packet of seeds in his pocket.

“Good luck, dude,” Terrance said. “I’m rooting for ya.”

“Yeah, yeah. Eat shit, dickhead,” Blitzø said, but it didn’t have any real bite to it. He rubbed his crystal, a diamond-shaped portal to his apartment opening. Then he hesitated. “Maybe…I’ll be here again. If Stolas doesn’t find a better plant shop. One with a shop owner that minds his own fucking business.”

“Calling him by his name, eh? You weren’t doing that before,” Terrance observed. Blitzø averted his gaze, looking at the portal.

“Cuz I was talkin’ about my bird,” he said, and with that he stepped through the portal, the portal closing behind him.

He looked around the apartment, gaze wandering to the wall covered in pictures. Then he walked over to the couch, lifting the cushion to find the grimoire right where he stashed it. He furrowed his brow.

“Thought so,” he muttered. He picked up the grimoire and tucked it under his arm. Then he walked over to the wall, looking up at the calendar. His eyes widened, seeing the date later this week. He’d circled it many times in red pen, and it was decorated with a drawing of a crown and a book.

“GIT BOOK GIT RICH!!!!”

He slid a hand down his face, still looking at the calendar. Dread began to tug at his insides again.

This wasn’t a date that was a few days from now. It was a date that had already happened. He opened the grimoire, quickly flipping through the pages until he found that curvy drawing he noticed back in the closet.

He looked at it more closely. It was one of those – fuck, what was it called? An hourglass. His eyes skimmed over the words. He couldn’t understand much of it - deciphering this confusing-as-fuck book was Loonie’s job - but he could piece enough of it together. Especially given all the bullshit he’d experienced so far.

It’d taken the shock of Fizz hating him again to finally get through to him, but he finally knew what was going on. He was kicking himself for not realizing it sooner, but could anyone really blame him? It sounded batshit crazy.

Because of some magic fuckery he didn’t know the grimoire was even capable of, he’d traveled back in time. Specifically, back to a few days before he broke into Stolas’ palace to try and steal his grimoire.

He was still his future self. He had the grimoire from the future, and his phone, and his crystal - basically whatever was on him when he broke into the palace. But everything else? Everything else was the past. He was in the past.

That’s why no one remembered the trial. That’s why Stolas barely knew him and was back to being a married, magical prince again. That’s why Fizz hated him.

He pressed the grimoire against his forehead, squeezing his eyes closed. What was he supposed to do? He needed to get back, right? The Stolas he left on his couch needed him. But how much had he already fucked up since being here? Had he changed the future? How did any of this even work? Fuuuuuck. Why did he always end up in situations that were complicated?

His life was like the cheap whiteboard in his office. It used to be covered with doodles and ideas and plans, but now some dick had gone and erased it all when his back was turned, leaving behind a blank, white space.

But wait. Wasn’t that the same thing as a clean slate? He moved the grimoire away from his forehead, looking over at the window to see the empty fire escape. Doing things over and doing them right. Was this his chance? Maybe this wasn't complicated at all. Fuck being better moving forwards. What if he’d been better from the start?

He nodded to himself, a smile spreading. Yeah. He could do this. This was a good thing. He’d fix things with Fizz. He’d get Stolas to fall in love with him. He’d make sure that Stolas and Octavia stayed together. He’d get those two bird bitches out of the picture somehow. He’d make sure they didn’t get anywhere close to that trial happening, all while running the best damn assassin business Imp City had ever seen. He laughed to himself.

He was gonna be better. No, he was gonna be perfect. He had to be. He’d keep those fucking plates spinning forever.

It was then that the door to Loona’s room flew open. Loona looked at Blitzø with narrowed eyes, crossing her arms and leaning her hip against the doorframe.

“You’re laughing to yourself all alone like a fucking creep,” she said. “Finally lost it? The old lady and I had a bet going.”

“Loonie!” Blitzø set the grimoire down on the floor, rushing over to hug her. He got a firm kick to the nuts, and it was like a flash grenade had gone off in the apartment as he fell to his knees groaning.

Damn. He’d gotten used to Loona being a little warmer ever since he almost beefed it. Eh, it was fine. He’d get Loona to hug him again. He added it to the list.

“Where the fuck have you been? You came back with coffee this morning and then it was like you disappeared,” Loona said as she stood over him, brow raised. “Didn’t you have a shit-ton of jobs today? We’re broke, if you forgot.”

“Yeaaahh,” Blitzø said, tears in his eyes from the pain. He was still curled up on the floor. “It’s a funny story, actually…”

“I have a feeling I won't be laughing,” Loona said flatly. “You have a fucked sense of humor, Blitzø.” He let out a nervous laugh.

Yeah. She was probably right, as always.

Chapter Text

“I can’t believe you’re dragging me into your bullshit,” Loona said, arms crossed as she followed Blitzø down the grocery store aisle. Blitzø hummed to himself, reaching up on his tiptoes to slide a box of paw-shaped lollipops off the shelf and into his basket.

“C’mon, Loonie. It’ll be fuuuuun,” he assured her, wrapping his tail around a bag of Chaos Crisps and dropping it in his basket as he continued down the aisle. He was making sure to grab Loona’s favorite snacks, hoping that it’d put her in a better mood.

“And we’re seriously not killing him?” she asked, sounding skeptical. She tossed another bag of Chaos Crisps in the basket, raising a brow at Blitzø as if challenging him to put it back. Blitzø grabbed a third bag instead, giving Loona a grin as he added it to the growing pile of snacks. Loona rolled her eyes, arms crossed again.

“This is a different type-a job,” he explained, moving on to the next aisle. “So no killing or maiming allowed, ‘kay? We reaaally don’t wanna deal with royalty demanding a refund. Bad for business.”

“Fine. But don’t expect me to act all buddy-buddy with some random rich pricks.”

“Throw me a bone here, sweetie.” Then let out a laugh. “Pun intended.” Loona made a noise of disgust, rolling her eyes again.

“What if instead I take that bone and shove it up your -?”

“You’ll like ‘em, Loonie,” Blitzø assured her before she could finish her threat. “Octavia’s a good kid. She’s cool and smart like you. And Stolas is…” he trailed off, struggling to choose the best words to describe him.

Also smart. Not cool. Extremely gullible. Definitely a total nerd. But a sexy nerd. With a laugh that couldn’t help but draw you in, and ruby eyes that lit up in the most attractive way when he got excited about random shit, and a smile that warmed Blitzø’s insides, and legs that went on for days, no weeks –

“I bet some random-ass demon would pay us a shit-ton of money for killing a prince,” Loona offered with a shrug, pulling Blitzø away from his thoughts. “That’s all I’m saying. Sounds less annoying than going on a stupid trip.”

“Sure. But we don’t need that kinda heat on us,” Blitzø pointed out. “You don’t want your dear ol’ dad getting his head chopped off, yeah?” Loona scoffed.

“As if Satan would ever give enough of a shit about you,” she shot back. Blitzø grimaced, rubbing the side of his neck and remembering the heaviness of those shackles. He remembered the way he desperately pulled against them trying to get to Stolas before he was kicked out of the room. He had marks on his wrists and neck for a few days after that. He made sure to cover them with makeup so Stolas never noticed. So nobody did.

“Crazier shit’s happened,” Blitzø offered, grabbing a vacuum-sealed package of rats from the shelf and inspecting it. “Think this’s any good?” Loona crinkled up her nose as she looked down at the bag.

“Fuck no,” she said. He saw the circular red sticker that said ‘Premium’. Premium meant fancy, didn’t it? He reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone. He pulled up Stolas’ contact - which he renamed to ‘Princey’ so he wouldn’t have to explain the whole ‘Stols’ thing again - and pressed the call button. It rang a few times before the call was picked up.

“Hello?” It was Octavia’s voice. Blitzø’s brows raised in surprise.

“Uuuh, hiya Octavia. It’s me, Blitzø –?”

“I know,” Octavia said. “I saw the caller ID.”

“So your dad saved my number, eh?” He couldn’t help but feel a warm satisfaction at that.

He’d tried calling Stolas about an hour ago, but it went to voicemail. Concerned, Blitzø had shot him a text. Thankfully Stolas replied a few minutes after that, explaining how they were experiencing an unexpected delay, but would let Blitzø know as soon as they were ready to go. That’s when Blitzø had decided to swing by the grocery store with Loona to grab some snacks as they waited.

“Yeah,” Octavia said, tone flat. “I’m changing it right now, though, to ‘Voyeur Creep’ –” Loona was leaning in to hear the phone call, and she barked out a laugh.

“H-hey now, that’s not necessary,” Blitzø said. “I told ya that was a misunderstanding -”

“Misunderstanding. Right,” Octavia said dryly, clearly unconvinced.

“Wait! What if we make a deal?” he asked, getting an idea. “Loona and I are at the grocery store right now. How ‘bout I buy you your favorite snack in exchange for you not changing my contact name?” There was a long pause.

“Two snacks,” Octavia said. Blitzø let out an amused puff of air. Her negotiation skills were definitely top-notch.

“Deal. Whattaya like? Just name it.”

“I want two packages of dried rats,” Octavia said. “The premium kind.” Blitzø looked down at the package he was holding. They certainty looked dried-as-fuck.

“The…Wackford ones?” Blitzø asked, turning the package over to read the label on the back. “The fuck? This freak has a food brand, too?” That whore had his hands in everything.

“That’s the one,” Octavia said. “I also want a box of cigarettes.” Blitzø’s eyes widened at that.

“Uhhhh, yeah, I dunno if your dad will like that…” Blitzø began, unsure. Loona swiped the phone from his hand, putting it to her ear.

“You should change his contact name to ‘Horse Pervert’,” she instructed, putting a hand on her hip and shooting Blitzø a grin, baring her teeth. “I think that’ll be a great conversation starter when we meet up.”

“Hey! I love horses a normal amount!” Blitzø protested, putting the package of rats into his basket and looking up at Loona. “It’s everyone else that doesn’t appreciate those beautiful four-legged fuckers enough!”

“And you can explain all of that to your client tonight,” Loona said, still grinning. “We’ll see if he ends up wanting that refund after all.” Blitzø’s jaw dropped from the betrayal. Then he sighed, putting a hand on his hip.

“Fine! Tell her I’ll buy cigs.” Honestly, he wasn’t worried about what Stolas would think. Knowing that bird he’d be excited to know that Blitzø had hobbies or whatever. But he did want to be on Octavia’s good side. If he was gonna have any chance with Stolas, he needed Octavia to not hate his guts.

“You’ve got a deal,” Loona said into the phone. “It was great doing business with ya –” Blitzø used his tail to swipe the phone back, pressing it to his ear.

“Now what’s up with you answering your dad’s phone, anyway? Don’t tell me he’s taking his sweet time getting ready. Tell him to hurry his feathered ass up.”

“Riiight,” Octavia said, clearly hesitating. “It’s actually…Dad’s busy…um, talking with Mum.”

“Talking?” Blitzø repeated, brow raised. He didn’t like the sound of that. “You know you sound suspicious-as-fuck, right?”

“That’s rich coming from you,” Octavia shot back, defensive. “Why do you care, anyway? This means that you get to take a break from entertaining my dad. I assume you’ll get paid either way –”

“That’s not –” Blitzø began, furrowing his brow. He glanced up at Loona, who was looking at him with interest, suspicion in her narrowed eyes. She could probably hear most of what Octavia was saying – crazy good hearing and all.

He shot her his most convincing ‘I’m not being weird at all’ smile and grabbed a second package of dried rats, putting it in his basket. Then he began to walk to the end of the aisle, taking a left and heading for the cigarettes. He grabbed a pack and put it in his basket.

“How long do you think they’ll be…talking for?” he asked.

“I dunno,” Octavia said, tone guarded. “It sounds like a long conversation.” She sighed after saying that last part. Something twisted in Blitzø’s chest at that. Why did he have a bad feeling about this? Should he swing by the palace? “Oh, wait –”

“Blitzy!” Stolas suddenly said over the phone. The tension in Blitzø’s chest eased at the sound of his voice.

“Hey big bird. Everythin’ good?”

“Y-yes! I’m still running a bit behind - apologies for holding us up - but we should be ready to depart soon…ish!”

“Should I stop by the palace? I can keep ya company while you -”

“No!” Stolas said quickly, sounding flustered. Blitzø heard him clear his throat over the phone. “I-I mean…that is unnecessary. I would hate for you to come all this way…”

“I can just portal there,” Blitzø reminded him. Weird. Back at the plant shop Stolas was getting all anxious about him leaving, and now he didn’t want him to come back? Exactly what kinda convo was he having with his bitch of a ball-and-chain?

“Oh. Right. Of course,” Stolas said. A pause. “Regardless, what if we meet at the elevator in Pride instead? Perhaps at the building’s entrance? In about an hour?” He lowered his voice as he said those last parts.

“Uh, yeah, I guess –”

“Excellent! I have to go now!” Stolas said, something strained in his voice. Did Blitzø hear a crash in the background? The call ended before Blitzø could ask. He moved his phone away from his ear, looking down at it in surprise. 

“The fuck?” That knot in his chest tightened and twisted again. He couldn’t shake this bad feeling. There was definitely more than a ‘long conversation’ going on. Should he go see for himself? Should he intervene? But Stolas clearly didn’t want him to. Fuck. What was the right move here?

“Hey,” Loona said, moving to stand in front of him. He looked up at her in surprise. She was clearly tracking his expression, confusion in the furrow of her brow. “You’re acting weird-as-fuck, Blitzø. Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“Psssh. Whaaaaat?” Blitzø said, giving her a dismissive wave of his hand. He began heading for the exit now that they had everything, Loona following behind. “Nah, I’m just tryna sus out when and where we’re meeting up so I can…” he scrambled for an excuse, “change my outfit! Yeah! That!” He turned as he continued walking to see Loona narrow her eyes.

“Change your outfit?” She paused, sniffing the air. “I guess you do smell like shit.”

“Do I?” Blitzø asked, smelling his armpit. It smelled fine to him. He shrugged. “I meaannn yeah, exactly! Gotta look my best for the client! Dress for the job ya want or whatever-the-fuck. That’s what I’ve always said!”

“Ugh, whatever. We’re driving back to the apartment then?”

“Yeah, let’s head to the van.” Blitzø made his way to the cash register, but then he stopped, ducking behind one of the aisles. He turned to look at Loona, giving her a sheepish smile. “Sooooo exactly how broke are we again?” Loona raised a brow. Then she looked down at the basket filled with snacks.

“Yeeeeah, we can’t pay for all this. Definitely not this premium shit.”  Blitzø nodded. Then he reached into his pocket, pulling out all the cash he had on him. He could already tell that it wouldn’t be enough.

“Welp. Guess we’re making a run for it,” he said. He looked around, spotting the cameras on the ceiling. Then he grabbed Loona’s arm, pulling her along as he moved them into an empty corner that seemed like a blind spot. Perfect. “Got the keys handy?” Loona nodded, pulling the keys out and spinning them on her finger. Then she looked down at Blitzø’s hand still on her arm. She jerked it away.

“Drag me around like that again and I’m running you over,” she warned. Blitzø put his hands up in surrender. Then he rubbed his crystal, opening a portal that led to the parking lot, right where they left the van. He stepped to the side, gesturing for Loona to go through first. He made sure no nosy shits were watching as she walked through. Then he hastily followed behind, closing the portal behind them.

“Now let’s make like a dick without a condom and pull out quickly!” he instructed, throwing open the back door. He tossed the basket inside and slammed the door closed. Then he leaped through the open window into the passenger’s side seat. Loona was already behind the wheel, turning the key in the ignition. “Step on it, Loonie! Before anyone starts coming!” She flipped him off as she slammed her foot on the gas. They sped out of the parking lot, tires screeching against the cracked-to-shit pavement. He turned to look through the rear window. It looked like nobody noticed. Heh. Idiots.

“I’m betting these royal pricks didn’t expect you to use that for shoplifting,” Loona observed, nodding at his wrist before looking back at the road. “I still can’t believe you convinced them to give you a magical crystal as payment for one weird-ass clown day. They must not’ve known how unfunny you are. You’re not even dressed as a clown -”

“Clownin’ is a work of heart, Loonie,” Blitzø argued, facing forwards in his seat. He thought about the fuck-ass clown outfit he had to wear while he was working the cart at Loo Loo Land. No way was he doing that shit again. Loona scoffed, rolling her eyes. “And hey, we drove here, didn’t we? It’s not like I’m using this bad boy for everything.”

“I drove, asshole,” Loona said through gritted teeth. “This was supposed to be my day off.”

“Didn’t you say we had a ton of jobs today?”

“Yeah, but then you ditched. So I ditched too.

“Eh, fair enough.”

“Are you still ignoring the old lady’s calls, by the way?” Loona asked, glancing over at him. “She’s gonna kick your ass, you know. Not that I give a shit. If anything I wanna watch.”

“It’ll be fiiiiiine,” Blitzø said, leaning back in the passenger’s seat and waving her off. “I’ll call Mills back tomorrow.” He tried to give off an air of not-giving-a-fuck, but he sneakily checked his phone while Loona’s eyes were on the road.

Moxxie’s freaking out, Blitzø

We managed to do some of the jobs on our own, but it sure ain’t easy when you’re not here

Everything good on your end? Do I need to stab anyone?

What’s this fancy job you're doin anyway?

Blitzø? U good? :(

You’re probs fine, but it’d be nice to know for sure

Blitzø sighed, feeling a tug of guilt. Back in the present Millie had been acting weird. Ever since the trial, basically. He had no clue why. He kept trying to broach the subject, but she dodged it every time, telling him that everything was fine. He didn’t believe it for a second. He knew Millie too well. And she knew him too well, which is why he’d been dodging her calls as long as possible. But one quick call couldn’t hurt, right? He just needed to act natural.

He took a deep breath, steeling himself, and then he called her back, putting his phone to his ear.

“Ha. Knew it. Scared bitch,” Loona said under her breath.

“Blitzø! You okay?” Millie asked, picking up the call right away. “I was startin’ to wonder if we needed to track ya down bounty hunter style!”

“Yeah Mills, just got caught up with a last-minute job,” Blitzø explained. “You take a video of Moxxie’s freak-out?”

“Now why would you think I’d take a video of somethin’ like that?” Millie said, offended. “I’ll send it to you later,” she added quietly. Blitzø grinned.

“You’re the best.”

“Oh I know. Now what’s this about a last-minute job? You sent one vague text and fucked off. You know better than anyone that we needa start makin’ more money and quick, B. And it’s a bad look if we drop jobs last-minute -”

“Yeaaaah, I know,” he said, feeling at least a little remorseful. He remembered what it was like for them back then, before they’d stolen the book. They were living paycheck-to-paycheck at that point. And it was hard-as-fuck getting jobs to begin with. It wasn’t like him to ditch like this without giving Millie a heads up. Moxxie could eat a dick though. He didn’t need to know where Blitzø was all the time. “But this’ll be good for us in the long run. Trust me –

“SIR!” Blitzø quickly pulled his phone away from his ear, wincing as Moxxie’s voice came through loudly. “Where in the seven rings have you been -?”

“Fucking chill, Moxx. I’ve got it handled,” Blitzø assured him, putting the phone back against his ear. “A good employee’s supposed to be adaptable, not freak out when their boss misses one day –”

“This is far from your first offense, sir,” Moxxie pointed out. “You skip work all the time –”

“Exactly! So you should be used to this instead of being up my ass!”

“But we need the money, sir –” Holy fuck. Blitzø forgot how often Moxxie used to call him ‘sir’.

“I know, I know. We’ll be getting a nice cash flow soon, ‘kay? I can get us into the living world now.”

“You can?” Millie asked, fired up now. “Great job, Blitzø!”

“I guess that is an important development,” Moxxie relented.

“Yeah it is, so calm your tits.”

“What about the job tomorrow, then?” Millie asked. “This client was gonna pay us the big bucks. We should still take it, right?”

“Yeah, we probably should,” Blitzø agreed. It’d still take some time before they had the funds to move into the office. And they needed to build their rep so they could get a steady clientele of sinners knocking at their door. Damn. This process was a fucking headache the first time around. He wasn’t thrilled about doing it again. But at least this time he wasn’t doing anything blatantly illegal, exactly, so he wouldn’t have Satan himself on his asshole.

The van suddenly stopped. They’d made it back to their apartment. Blitzø hopped out of the passenger’s seat, opening the rear door and pulling out the basket of snacks. Loona locked the van and made her way inside, not waiting for Blitzø. Blitzø took a second to admire how good of a condition the van was in. It was still a piece of shit in many aspects, but not the crumpled, wheezing piece of shit he left back in the present.

“Let’s meet at my apartment tomorrow before the job, yeah? We can get it done quick and then talk future business shit.”

“Sounds good!” Millie said. “Have fun doin’…what’re you up to, again?”

“I’m….” Blitzø began, trying to come up with something that wasn’t – ‘trying to win over the royal bird I can’t stop thinking about’, because Moxxie would have a field day with that. “Doin’ some private bodyguard shit. Top secret, so can’t say much more than that.”

“Oh really?” Moxxie said, clearly suspicious. Blitzø rolled his eyes.

“Christ on a stick, Moxx. Take the day off and have Millie peg you or somethin’. I won’t be able to watch this time ‘round, but you need to hop off my dick and get on someone else’s.”

“S-SIR -!” Moxxie said, scandalized. Blitzø hung up the phone, putting it in his pocket. Good. Another thing taken care of. He tightened his grip on the basket he’d stolen as he headed into the apartment building.

“This isn’t a clown outfit either,” Loona said, glancing up from her phone to look over at him. They were standing in front of the large fancy building that had Pride’s elevator, the same building he’d been in only hours ago with Stolas. Blitzø was nervously tapping his fingers against his thighs, looking around for the lanky-ass bird. “Dress for the job you want, huh? Is your job tryna get laid?”

He'd decided to take a shower and throw on his favorite black leather jacket, wearing a skin-tight red turtleneck underneath. The jacket felt different than it usually did, and he realized it was cuz it wasn’t as worn down from so many uses. It still had the subtle shine of newness, and a fresh leather smell. It was strange thinking about how he’d be breaking it in all over again. He’d also moved his pendant to his belt buckle, wearing his usual black pants and tall boots.

“Awwwwwww, is that a compliment Loonie-Toonie? Are you saying your daddy looks niiii – FUCK!” Loona had stomped on his foot and he quickly grabbed it, hopping around.

“Hardly,” she said, going back to looking at her phone. “I’m just saying that you look like you’re tryna get in this rich guy’s pants, dumbass. Is that what you’re not telling me? Is this some kinda sugar daddy angle you’re playing?”

“Uhhhhhhhh,” Blitzø said, scrambling for a convincing response. She wasn’t that far off the mark, to be honest. He was trying to get into Stolas’ pants. But not for money. It was because he really missed the taste of that sweet bird puss. And if he was gonna get Stolas from the past to fall for him he needed to remind him how hot he was.

“Actually, I don’t care,” Loona cut him off as she scrolled through her phone, blowing her hair out of her eyes. “Just don’t start fucking in the same room as me. And I better get a cut since I’m clearly here to keep his daughter distracted while you get your rocks off -”

“W-woah it’s not like that!” Blitzø protested. Loona scoffed, clearly unconvinced. She pulled the pack of cigarettes from the bag they’d set down on the sidewalk between them, sliding one out. She lit the cigarette with a lighter she conjured from somewhere and took a drag. “Hold up, is that my peace offering for Octavia?”

“You bet. I have a feeling cigarettes aren’t her speed. She’ll thank me later.” Blitzø scoffed, shaking his head as he bit back his grin. He had a feeling Loona had planned this from the start.

He checked his phone. No word from Stolas. Over an hour had passed since he heard from them. They should be here by now. He began tapping his fingers against his thigh again. Fuck. He should’ve shown up at the palace anyway.

It was getting dark, the streets full of shadowy figures, the dirty lampposts providing a shitty amount of light. What if Stolas and Octavia never showed? That uneasy feeling was back, this feeling that he’d fucked up somehow.

Christ on a stick, he just figured out that he’d been brought back to the past, that this wasn’t some fucked hallucination, and now he was messing it all up when there were real stakes.

He thought about the grimoire. Could he figure out a way to use that spell and start this whole day over? But he didn’t know how the fuck he’d gotten it to work in the first place.

Besides, it was currently stashed under the couch cushion back at the apartment. He’d hidden it away while Loona was in her room. It hadn’t been difficult to find the opportunity – the moment they got back from the grocery store she slammed the door to her room, telling him to let her know when they had to bounce.

But Loona must’ve seen the book earlier, when he’d set it on the floor to try and hug her. He needed to come up with a believable excuse for why he had it. He really couldn’t afford having the wrong people find out that he had a piece of Goetia property, much less a copy from the future. Could he give it back to Stolas? Sneak it into his bookshelf? How would Stolas react when he found out that he suddenly had two grimoires?

He could feel his brain beginning to overheat. Time travel was fucked.

“Ooooooh Blitzy!” Stolas called out, and Blitzø quickly lifted his gaze to see Stolas hurrying over to him from the other side of the empty street, the blue glow from a portal dissipating. He was wearing the outfit he wore to Ozzie’s – billowy sleeves and white ruffles and a cape that looked like it had a red glittering universe inside of it.

Blitzø couldn’t help his dopey grin as he saw the large, excited smile on Stolas’ face. He relaxed his shoulders, putting a hand on one hip as he watched Stolas rush over, Octavia at his side.

Maybe some part of this whole ‘time travel’ business wasn’t so bad.

“Hey princey,” Blitzø said once they joined. Octavia was holding her arms to her chest, looking shyly at Loona and then down at the sidewalk. She was wearing the same outfit as earlier.

“Wow,” Loona said, raising a brow as she gave Stolas a once-over. “And I was giving Blitzø a hard time for being overdressed.” She dropped her cigarette on the sidewalk and stepped on it.

“O-oh, yes, I am a tad overdressed, aren’t I?” Stolas confessed, running a nervous hand over his headfeathers, slicking them back. “I wasn’t planning on changing my outfit, but, well, a…um, creature got into my limited supply of magic ink that I keep in my study and in a stroke of bad luck it spilled all over me.” He clicked his beak in agitation at the memory. “That specific type of ink is impossible to clean quickly, which is why I had it tucked away. I had to take a horribly long shower just to get it off my feathers.”

“Yeah, I didn’t ask,” Loona said, inspecting her claws. Stolas glanced over at Blitzø, but he was too distracted picturing Stolas taking a long shower and rubbing ink off his body. Damn he wished he’d been around for that. He would’ve gladly helped Stolas out, but not before getting them both a little messy first -

“Ha! Of course,” Stolas said, letting out a nervous laugh. “Forgive my ramblings. It is so lovely to meet you, Loona! Thank you for accompanying us on our little excursion. Oh! And this is my daughter Octavia.” He gestured over to Octavia proudly, and Octavia shot him an embarrassed glance. Then she looked at Loona, fidgeting with her hands before holding one of them out.

“H-hello,” she said. “It’s n-nice to meet you.” Then she glanced down at the squashed cigarette on the sidewalk. The corner of her beak twitched up in a smile. “Is that one of the cigarettes from the pack Blitzø bought me?”

“Fuck yeah it is,” Loona said with a grin, taking Octavia’s hand and shaking it. Octavia’s smile widened a fraction. She looked more relaxed.

“You bought Octavia cigarettes?” Stolas asked, looking at Blitzø with wide eyes as he pressed a hand against his chest. Fuuuuuuuuuck. Blitzø glanced over to see Octavia biting back her grin. She met Blitzø’s gaze and he saw the mischievous glint in her eyes. His jaw dropped.

“You didn’t want any cigarettes, did you?”

“I would never smoke. I know my dad forbids it since I’m too young,” Octavia said, pressing a hand against her chest much like her dad. “That’s why I was so surprised when you told me that you bought some for me.”

“Blitzø!” Stolas said, exasperated.

“I didn’t! I-I mean, I did, technically…but that was only because –!” He felt Loona’s eyes on him and glanced over to see her slowly mouth the words ‘Horse Pervert’.

He gaped at both her and Octavia, seeing the evil intent in both of their expressions. He sighed, dropping his hand from his hip.

“I bought other snacks, for the record,” he said to Stolas, reaching down to grab the bag and slinging it over his shoulder. Better to get this show on the road before the girls made him look like an even bigger tool. “She can have those instead.” He spit on his crystal, rubbing circles with his pointer finger. “Ready to go?”

He flicked his gaze upwards to see Stolas watching the way he was rubbing slow, methodical circles into the crystal. Then he clocked the way the bird’s throat bobbed. He raised a brow, a grin tugging at his lips. Stolas quickly cleared his throat, covering his beak with his fist and avoiding Blitzø’s gaze.

“Y-yes! Let us depart!” he managed to say. The portal opened.

“Sure thing, princey. Since we’re goin’ to the living world, are you gonna put on that sexy human disguise?”

“S-sexy…?” Stolas began, still flustered. Then he seemed to realize something. “Wait, how do you know that I have a human disguise?” he asked, blinking at him in curiosity. Blitzø felt Loona and Octavia’s suspicious looks as well. Shit. He should start keeping a tally of his fuck-ups.

“I meeeeeeean, what magical prince doesn’t have a sexy human disguise, amirite?” Before anyone could argue with his weak logic he grabbed one of Stolas’ billowy sleeves, quickly leading him through the portal. Once they were on the other side he turned to look at Loona and Octavia. He glanced down at the smushed cigarette, then back up at them.

Octavia smiled at him innocently, hands clasped behind her back. Loona gave him a shit-eating grin, absolutely no remorse in her expression. He scoffed, a grin of his own tugging at his lips. Then he tossed the bag of snacks over to Loona. “C’mon you two.”

“Sure thing, boss,” Loona said, tone dripping with sarcasm. Octavia tittered behind her hand as the two of them walked through the portal.

They were standing in front of a large, white building with three black domes, a big one in the center and two smaller ones on the left and right. Its white color was stark against the darkness of the night. The windows were lit up with a warm, yellow glow. The observatory was perched on top a hill surrounded by sparse trees, and a glittering city stretched below them.

Blitzø looked around, impressed by the view. He never saw the observatory that day they were tracking down Octavia. He was too busy impersonating some random-ass actor on some stupid-ass set with a coke-addicted child. The city itself seemed like a real shit-hole, people included, but this wasn’t too shabby. And thankfully there were no people to gawk at their arrival.

“Holly-wood?” Stolas said as the portal closed behind them. Blitzø followed his gaze to see a sign in the distance, in the middle of an even larger hill. “Holly is poisonous, too, Blitzy. The berries, specifically,” he explained.

“I’m beginnin’ to wonder what plant isn’t poisonous,” Blitzø said dryly. Stolas laughed behind his hand.

“So this is the living world, huh,” Loona said, looking around. Shit, right. This was her first time. He forgot. It was hard-as-fuck keeping track of what has and hasn’t happened yet.

“Is this an observatory?” Octavia asked, eyes wide as she looked up at the building. “I’ve seen pictures before, but…”

“Yes! Isn’t this so exciting, princess?” Stolas said, throwing an arm around her shoulders and giving her a squeeze. “This is called the Griffith observatory. They have multiple telescopes, and a planetarium as well!”

“Let’s head inside, yeah?” Blitzø suggested. He took a step forward, and then he stopped, thinking about the grocery store. “Shit. There are probably cameras.  I didn’t think about that –”

“Not to worry!” Stolas said, pulling his grimoire out from somewhere within his cape. It began to glow with magic, pages flipping as it floated in the air. Blitzø noticed sparks flying above the main entrance to the building, where a camera was. Sparks flew in other parts of the building as well, standing out against the darkness. A moment later Stolas closed the book, sliding it back within his cape. “The cameras won’t see us now. And there appears to be no humans present as well, although I can take care of that if the situation arises.”

“What? You’re gonna blast ‘em with your magic?” Loona asked.

“Lucifer no!” Stolas said. “I’ll just wipe their memory.”

“Ha! So there is a memory wiping spell!” Blitzø said. Good to know it could’ve been a possibility after all. Then he noticed their confused looks. “I...I just was wondering if there was one. No reason why. Just curious,” he explained, crossing his arms and rocking on his heels.

“Well I love curiosity!” Stolas said happily. “Now let us sate more of our curiosity inside!” He grabbed Octavia’s hand and together they walked towards the entrance, Octavia trying and failing to suppress her smile as she followed along. Blitzø watched them go on ahead, a smile of his own tugging at his lips. Then he heard a cracking sound. He turned to see Loona crunching on one of the paw-shaped lollipops, the bag of snacks perched on her shoulder.

“Let’s get this over with,” she said. Blitzø scoffed, crossing his arms.

“You like Octavia,” he said, feeling smug. She rolled her eyes.

“She’s cool I guess,” she offered. Then she laughed. “The cigarette thing was gold. Didn’t know the princess would have it in her, but she got your ass. Her dad’s a fucking dork, though.” Blitzø looked over again to see Stolas talking excitedly with Octavia about who knows what. His eyes were crinkled into happy crescent moons. His smile was wide and easy. Blitzø felt a wave of affection. Yeah, maybe time travel wasn’t so bad after all.

“Yeah, he is,” Blitzø agreed. And he really loved that fucking dork. It was a feeling that sliced through him like a knife, carving past his defenses and rooting into his heart. To pull it out would be to kill him.

Who knew a feeling like that could also be so incredibly soft? Could leave him wanting more? 

He reached to loop his arm through Loona's, but remembered her threat from earlier and stopped himself. 

"He'll grow on you, too," Blitzø found himself saying. Loona raised a brow. 

"You're talking like this isn't a one-day deal," she pointed out. 

"Hey, ya never know what the future holds," Blitzø said with a shrug. Or the past, apparently. He caught Loona's confused gaze, something in her expression hard to decipher.

"Yeah...sure," she said, chucking the stick of her now finished lollipop as far as she could throw it and walking past Blitzø. She was heading towards the entrance as well. Blitzø exhaled, adjusting the collar of his leather jacket and fixing the pendant on his belt. 

So far, so good. There was still a part of him that was wary about whatever went down with Stolas' wife, but the bird seemed as energetic as ever, so it couldn't have been a big deal.

Right?

Chapter Text

A…waxing giblet.” Blitzø squinted his eyes as he read the label. He straightened up, putting his hands on his hips as he looked at the row of different pictures of the moon in front of him. “Sounds kinky.”

“Gibbous,” Stolas corrected, standing next to him.

“Gesundheit,” Blitzø said. Stolas hid a smile behind his hand.

“Waxing Gibbous is a phase of the moon, Blitzy,” he explained patiently, dropping his hand. He gestured to the picture of the moon that Blitzø had been looking at, the one to the left of the full moon. “It’s the phase between a first quarter moon and a full moon.” He moved his hand to point at the picture on the right of the full moon. “And this is a waning gibbous. Waxing means that the moon is getting larger, essentially, while waning means it’s getting smaller. And gibbous derives from the Latin word ‘hump’-”

“Ha! So it is kinky,” Blitzø said, pumping his hips and shooting Stolas a grin. Stolas let out a surprised, hooty laugh, caught off guard enough that he didn’t hide it behind his hand. Blitzø grinned further, drinking in the sight of him.

“I do some of my most important work on the full moon, you know,” Stolas said, and Blitzø’s grin faltered. His cleared his throat, looking at the picture of the full moon in the center of the row.

They were in the middle of an exhibit full of nerd shit about the sun and moon. He found himself stopping here because he remembered that Stolas had a fuck-ton of different pictures of the moon all over the palace. He figured he’d learn a thing or two.

“Full moon huh? Tell me more,” Blitzø said, trying to sound casual. Trying not to think about the full moons when Stolas had been the one begging him for more -

“I suppose I can unravel prophecies and other related tasks on any night, but I’ve always found something enthralling about the full moon,” Stolas explained, a shy smile on his lips as he glanced over at Blitzø. “It represents transformation, the completion of a cycle that is about to start anew, and it gives off such wonderful light. Like a beacon. On those nights my work feels…a little less lonely.” He hesitated, then let out a nervous laugh. “I must sound quite ‘uncool’, considering a planetary body to be a companion.”

“A body you love to watch while it’s finishing,” Blitzø pointed out, playfully whacking Stolas’ thigh with his tail. Stolas looked over at him in surprise, and then he let out another laugh, shoulders relaxing and expression brightening.

“I mean after a whole month of build-up it does finish quite spectacularly,” he offered, biting back his smile. “Perhaps I’m jealous.” It was Blitzø’s turn to laugh, an easy grin on his lips.

“Maybe ya need someone to show you a good-ass time then, princey.” He gave Stolas a flirty once-over. “More than a quick hump and dump.”

“Don’t you mean a gibbous and dump?” Stolas suggested. Blitzø raised a brow, seeing the bird’s cheesy grin, and then he began to laugh again, shaking his head. Soon they both went into a fit of laughter. Who knew such a cringe joke would get Blitzø going like this. If anyone else had made a joke like that, he didn’t think he’d be laughing so much.

“I gotta admit, I pegged you wrong this morning,” Blitzø finally said, wiping a tear from his eye. “You got me worried you were a total wet blanket. And the wettest blanket in Hell works for me, so I can sniff that shit out pretty damn well.”

“I suppose I was quite stiff earlier today,” Stolas conceded, still looking amused.

“Hey, don't get me wrong, I can work with stiff,” Blitzø said, giving Stolas a wink. “I was just gettin’ worried that you were aaaaall business, when I like the funny kinda business myself.” He paused. “And the shooty, stabby kinds, if we’re keepin’ count.”

“Well I don’t know about the shooty, stabby sort of business, but I do appreciate a good joke every now and again,” Stolas assured him. Then his expression became conflicted. “I haven’t had very many opportunities to make these sorts of jokes. Stella – my wife – doesn’t have much of a sense of humor. And these aren’t the types of jokes you make with your daughter.”

“So your wife’s the real wet blanket, huh,” Blitzø said, putting it together. Stolas didn’t disagree. “Ya know,” he continued on before he lost his nerve. “Octavia mentioned somethin’ about a ‘long conversation’ you two were having. I’m guessing you two weren’t cracking jokes, then.”

“Octavia told you that?" Blitzø caught a flash of guilt in his ruby eyes. "No, well...yes, I suppose it was relatively long, that is,” Stolas said, tone guarded as he looked at the pictures of the moon. His posture was more rigid than it was a few moments ago. There was a downturn to his beak, amusement gone. Yikes. Blitzø could be dense-as-fuck, but it was suuuper clear that Stolas didn’t wanna talk about it.

Shit. Was bringing it up the wrong move? Stolas had been warming up to him, acting less uptight and self-conscious, and now it felt like they’d just taken a step back. Blitzø turned to look at the display, eyes landing on the full moon specifically.

So Stolas had liked the full moon before their whole ‘contract’. He didn’t know that. He thought about that full moon. The fucked one that ended with Stolas in tears and with Blitzø feeling like absolute hot garbage. Was that another thing Blitzø ruined for him? Another thing to add to the long, ongoing list? He clenched his fists, taking a breath. He hadn’t ruined it yet. Not this time 'round.

“Relatively long, eh?” he asked, choosing to face Stolas again and shooting him his best smile. “How long we talkin’?” Stolas looked over at him in surprise. Blitzø waggled his brows.  

“Averaged-sized, I would say, at least based on what you ‘got packing’,” Stolas replied, shooting Blitzø's crotch a quick glance before meeting his gaze, a smile twitching the corners of his beak back upwards. Blitzø’s eyes widened a fraction, and then he scoffed. He was hoping to make things light, but he wasn’t expecting the callback from this morning.

“Damn right, big bird,” he agreed. “Glad you remembered.”

“I have an excellent memory,” Stolas reminded him, looking more at ease again as he gave Blitzø a soft smile. Their gazes lingered, as if neither of them wanted to be the one who looked away first. Blitzø’s tail flicked back and forth, a warmth rising in his cheeks.

“Hey, can we go see that telescope now?” Octavia asked, appearing at Stolas’ side and looking up at him. They’d been making their ways through the exhibits, saving the telescope for last, that and the planetarium. 

“O-of course, dearest,” Stolas said, clearing his throat as he placed a gentle hand on top of her head. “We’ve covered quite a lot of ground, haven’t we? Learn anything interesting so far?”

As the two of them began to chat, Blitzø looked around to see Loona on the other side of the room. She was taking a picture of one of the displays. He could make out the image of an eclipse on the wall – a black circle surrounded by a red ring of fire. Looked pretty fuckin’ rad. He watched as she looked down at her phone, a pleased expression on her face. Then she went back to reading whatever was next to the pictures. He strolled over to her, hands in his pockets.

“Heeeeya Loonie,” he said once he was next to her. Loona whipped her head to look at him, surprised. Clearly she’d been engrossed in what she’d been doing. “You good to check out the telescope? Or do you wanna hang around some more? Don’t wanna interrupt if you found somethin’ you’re interested in…” He caught the hint of a blush on her cheeks.

“Sure. Whatever. I’m just looking around randomly,” she said, putting her phone in her pocket. She pulled out a map out of the snack bag, which was currently looped over her shoulder. She quickly opened it up, eyes scanning over it. Then she started heading out of the room, stubbornly avoiding Blitzø’s knowing look.

“C’mon chucklefucks!” she said, nodding at the hallway. “Let’s go see this fancy telescope.” Stolas and Octavia moved to join Blitzø.

“Is Loona having a good time, do you think?” Stolas asked, leaning down to ask Blitzø quietly. Blitzø looked over to see how the bird was nervously watching Loona leave. He patted Stolas’ arm.

“She is,” Blitzø assured him. “She won’t admit it, and she’ll get pissed if you point it out, but she thinks this stuff’s cool.”

“It is cool,” Octavia agreed, and Stolas looked over at her, expression bright.

“I am so glad that you think so, Via!” he said, clapping his hands. “This was all Blitzy’s idea, for the record.”

“How’d you even hear about this place?” Octavia asked, looking at Blitzø with interest. Blitzø shrugged.

“I have my connections,” he said vaguely. Octavia raised a brow.

“Is that right? Do many clowns work at observatories?”

“Uhhhhhh…you bet your ass! I mean this place has gibbous moons – it’s a comedy gold mine!” Stolas giggled behind his hand. “Now let’s move along and see the main event, yeah?” He grabbed both of their sleeves this time and gently pulled them along. Octavia blew her feathers out of her eyes.

“Are gibbous moons particularly funny?” she asked her dad as they followed after Loona. Stolas grinned.

“Extremely so,” he said, as if he was sharing a secret. Octavia furrowed her brow in confusion, but shrugged her shoulders a moment later, letting Blitzø lead them along.

They stepped through the door to enter a dome-shaped room with cream-colored walls. Blitzø craned his neck to see that the ceiling was covered in black squares except for the rectangular-shaped hole that revealed the night sky.

But what really caught his eye was the huge telescope in the center of the room that was pointing at that rectangular-shaped opening. It had knobs and wires at the back that he knew fuck-all about what they did.

“Oh wow!” Stolas exclaimed, immediately making a beeline up the wooden stairs that led to the telescope. He began to inspect said wires and knobs. Blitzø let out a fond scoff, putting a hand on his hip. Fucking nerd.

“Woah,” Octavia breathed, stopping to stand next to Blitzø and looking at the telescope. Blitzø nudged her with his elbow, shooting her a grin.

“Cool shit, yeah? I knew you’d like it.”

“How’d you know?” Octavia asked, shooting him not the first skeptical look of the day, but this one was less severe. Maybe even more teasing. “Oh right. Must be because you saw my telescope when you were snooping around in my room this morning -”

“Woah woah woah I wasn’t – I wouldn’t call it snooping –”

“Woooow. So that’s why she was gonna change your contact to ‘Voyeur Creep’,” Loona said, shooting him a disapproving look as she moved to stand on his other side. “You better not be snooping around in my room when I’m not around. I put those sign up for a reason, Blitzø.

“Of course I respect your privacy, Loonie,” Blitzø assured her, moving to pat her arm. She swiftly dodged, narrowing her eyes. He dropped his hand with a shrug. “When I don’t need to practice my lockpicking, at least.” Her eyes widened.

“The fuck –?”

“You really go the whole nine yards locking that bitch up,” Blitzø continued with a laugh, shifting his weight on one hip. “It’s the perfect challenge. Keeps me sharp. And you know we got bills to pay.”

“Then go break into your employees’ place instead!” Loona said with a growl, baring her teeth.

“I already do that,” Blitzø said with a wave of his hand. “A good boss treats his employees equally. So I break into all your rooms.” Loona huffed.

“You’re such a prick.” She stalked off to lean against the wall on the other side of the room, arms crossed and looking pissed.

“I’m not sure if I feel better or worse that you sneak into everyone’s rooms,” Octavia mused, brow furrowed.

“I’ve snuck into your dad’s, too,” Blitzø offered, grinning proudly. Wait. Fuck. Not in this timeline. Not yet. “Ya know, when me and your grandpaps were tryna pick which place to stick me in for the surprise.”

“You’re lucky Mum didn’t catch you,” Octavia said with a scoff. “She’d flip if she found a random imp in her bedroom.” She gave him a once-over. “Are you any good at dodging things being thrown at you?”

“Not just ‘good’. That’s my specialty,” Blitzø assured her. “You shoulda seen me at the circus.”

“I still can, can’t I?” Octavia asked. Blitzø looked at her in confusion. “You know, since you claim to be a clown. That must mean you’re still part of a circus, right?” He saw the pointed look on her face. Shit. Her bullshit detector was good.

“Not exaaaaactly. I’m more of a…freelancer,” Blitzø tried to explain. “I do, uh…odd jobs for clients these days.” Stolas had taken the whole ‘him being an assassin thing’ pretty well. But he wasn’t sure if he should open that can of worms with Octavia just yet. Not when she was still deciding whether he was full of shit. Or really, she already knew he was full of shit, but was still deciding whether she needed to do something about it or not.

“Odd jobs, huh?” Octavia asked, raising a brow. Blitzø tried to give her his most convincing smile. “You must think I’m incredibly stupid, don’t you,” she continued when he offered nothing else, rolling her eyes. “You’re clearly not just some hired clown. You were literally just talking about how you practice lockpicking for fuck’s sake. And I doubt that the fancy gun on your hip is a toy.” Blitzø looked down at his holster. Welp. She got him there. But he could still salvage this. Just because she called him out didn’t mean she’d written him off entirely.

“Nah, I know you’re smart,” Blitzø said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “You saw through me the moment you opened your closet door.” She nodded, and he noticed the twitch of pride in her smile. “Fine. You’re on the money, kid, I’ll admit it. My main hustle isn’t clowning,” he began vaguely. “It’s…okay - I’m gonna be straight with you.” She waited for him to continue, expression hard to read. “We’re assassins for hire,” he said, nodding over at Loona, who was on her phone now, still leaning against the wall and looking angry.

“Is my dad…?” Octavia asked, glancing worriedly over at Stolas, who was still inspecting the telescope, twisting knobs and checking wires.

“He’s got nothing to do with that job!” Blitzø said quickly. “He never will. All I’m doin’ here is making sure he has the best day. That both of you do.” He could hear the sincerity in his own voice. He just hoped that Octavia could hear it too.

“Did Grandfather really hire you?” she asked. Blitzø found himself looking over at Stolas again, finding it hard to tear his gaze away. He watched as Stolas bent down to look through the eyepiece, pupilless eyes wide with curiosity.

Blitzø clenched his hands into fists, fighting to urge to go over to him, to ask him what he was looking at, to have him explain every complicated piece of this big-ass telescope. What every knob did. Every wire. Every thought running through his pretty head. Every feeling. He wanted to hold Stolas’ hand as he rambled on. Rub his thumb across soft feathers. Get lost in the warble of his voice -

“Hey,” Octavia pressed, and he forced himself to look at her, seeing a flash of…something in her eyes. Suspicion again? Confusion? Or worse, realization? Was he being painfully transparent about more than just his line of work? No. Fuck. He needed to be more careful. In the timeline he came from, Octavia didn’t react well when she thought he and Stolas were together. He couldn’t afford to repeat the same mistakes here and ruin his second chance.

Everything else could go to shit as long as Stolas and Octavia were still on good terms. As much as he wanted Stolas to have feelings for him again, that was his number one priority.

“Yup! I did such a good job last time that the royal geezer wanted to run it back. Not the first time I left someone wanting more rounds with me,” Blitzø joked, resisting the urge to cringe at the slight strain in his tone. “And that reminds me - I’m on the clock, so how ‘bout you join your dad and enjoy those stars, ‘kay sweetie? Wouldn’t feel right to cash that fat check if I don’t show you two a good-ass time.” Before she could argue he looked over at Stolas again. “Hey princey!” he called out, and Stolas turned to look at him in surprise. “Whatcha doin’? I can see those nerd gears in your head spinning from over here.”

“I’m just making some adjustments, Blitzy!” Stolas replied. “The view was horribly blurry, so I was endeavoring to rectify that!” Blitzø watched as the lanky bird bent down to look through the telescope again. Then he quickly looked back at him, grinning. “It should be ready now! Take a look at what I found, Octavia! You’ll love this!” He waved her over.

“That’s your cue,” Blitzø said, giving her a smile and nodding over at Stolas.

“You too, Blitzy! And Loona dear!” Blitzø was surprised. He’d been planning on standing by the sidelines and letting these two space nerds have their fun. This was supposed to be their time to bond. He didn’t want to get in the middle of that -

“C’mon,” Octavia said, nudging him with her elbow, a lot like he did to her minutes ago. “You’re on the clock, right?” she reminded him, shooting him a dry look, “So don’t think you can get out of listening to my dad ramble on. Don’t be shocked if we’re here for a while.” He picked up on the teasing tone in her voice. It was clear that she loved her dad’s ramblings, even though she wouldn’t admit it. Huh. Guess he and Octavia had that in common.

“I should’ve packed chairs,” Blitzø offered, and Octavia let out an amused puff of air, the two of them joining Stolas by the telescope. Octavia went to stand at her dad’s side, while Blitzø chose the hang back a step, leaning his back against the stair railing and putting his hands in his pockets. He looked over to see Loona stopping at the base of the stairs. She rested her arms on the railing and rested her chin on them, looking up at the telescope with a bored expression on her face. But Blitzø could tell from the way her ears were more perked up than usual that she was at least mildly interested. He shot her a grin when she met his gaze and she flipped him off, looking back at the telescope.

The lights in the room suddenly began to dim, and Blitzø put his hand on his gun reflexively, eyes flitting to all possible entry points. Then he noticed Stolas waving his hand, magic crackling between his fingers. He let himself relax, dropping his hand from his holster.

Stolas looked over at him, giving him a shy smile, and then he put his arm around Octavia’s shoulders, looking up at the night sky with excitement and bouncing a little on his feet. Blitzø snuck glances at his long profile, gaze resting on those ruby eyes, that wide smile. It was as if pieces of starlight had somehow broken off and found their way to this pretty bird. Maybe Stolas was made up of some of that starlight himself. It wouldn’t shock him. He'd seen crazier shit.

“With the grimoire we can see any corner of the universe that we desire,” Stolas began, giving Octavia’s shoulders a gentle squeeze. “But there is something so wonderful about how humans have found ways to see more of the universe themselves. And without magic, at that.”

“I’m shocked they managed to figure it out,” Loona said. “Based on the sinners I’ve seen, humans seem like a bunch of shitheads.” Blitzø scoffed, nodding his head.

“Yeeeah we’ve seen our share of dumbasses,” he agreed. “Like that group of gullible –” he quickly shut up. He’d been thinking about those horny spring breakers that were waaaaaay too easy to trick. But that hadn’t happened yet. It’d never happen if he could avoid it a second time, because that was a whoooole fucking mess, even if he got to stick it to Verosika. “Ehhh, I mean…guess there’re some humans that aren’t completely useless after all. So what’d ya wanna show us, princey? Find somethin’ cool on this fancy telescope?”

“Yes!” Stolas said, removing his arm from Octavia’s shoulders to clasp his hands together. He turned to face them all. “There are some stars that the humans pay particular attention to that I thought would be fun to show everyone! Via, darling, would you like to take a look and tell us what you see?”

“Oh, um, sure,” Octavia said. Stolas beamed as he watched Octavia step closer to the telescope, hunching down to take a look through the eyepiece thingy. Blitzø didn’t know shit about telescopes, but he knew about the scope of a rifle, at least. Not that different at the end of the day. “Um…I see a couple of stars.”

“Any guesses as to which stars you’re seeing?” Stolas asked. “I can give you a hint. We talked about one star in particular during our very first lesson.”

This teacher-y persona was really giving Blitzø a few ideas. He pictured Stolas in a pair of glasses and a measuring stick. Damn. He’d take the bird on the closest desk available until he was so wrecked he couldn’t name a single star. Fuck, why hadn’t he thought of that before?

“Oh!” Octavia said, quickly pulling Blitzø away from his thoughts. She was squinting one of her eyes as she continued to look through the eyepiece. “Is one of them Polaris?”

“Correct! Great job princess!” Stolas said, clapping his hands. “And do you remember the more colloquial name for it?” Octavia frowned thoughtfully, puffing out her cheeks. Stolas waited patiently, still smiling.

“No. I don’t remember,” she finally confessed, stepping away from the eyepiece to look at the floor. She held her arms against her chest, looking self-conscious.

“I dunno what ‘colloqy-whatever' means, but ain’t it also called the North Star?” Blitzø asked, pushing off the stair railing and resting his elbow on it as he faced them more fully. He watched as Stolas’ expression somehow brightened even more.

“Yes!” he said. “I didn’t know you studied the stars, Blitzy!” Blitzø shrugged, scuffing his boot against the stair.

“Cuz I don’t. But I picked up a few things, I guess.” In reality, he’d recently swiped a book about the stars while they were on a job in the living world. They’d been tasked with killing some musty-smelling, stuck-up librarian who was a total bitch about late fees. He was planning to give the book to Stolas as a gift, but then he figured Stolas probably knew all the random shit in it already. So he decided he’d read it, so he could talk to Stolas about it. Thankfully there were a lot of pictures.

“Didn’t know you were a secret nerd, Blitzy,” Loona said from the bottom of the stairs. “Maybe you three should start a space club and you can do that instead of creeping around my room when you’re bored.”

“I could manage both easy,” Blitzø assured her. Loona shot him a glare that he pretended not to see, suppressing his grin.

“I remember that the two stars that line up with Polaris are part of the Big Dipper,” Octavia offered to her dad, clearly trying to redeem herself.

“That’s right, Via!” Stolas said, overflowing with pride. “And do you remember what I told you about those three stars?” She hesitated. Then her expression lit up.

“Humans can tell time by looking at them, since they move around like the hand of a clock!”

“Yes! That’s exactly right!” Stolas said, putting his hands on her shoulders. “Excellent job! That was a tricky question.” Blitzø watched as Octavia rolled her eyes, but a smile tugged at her lips. Then Stolas looked over at Blitzø and Loona. “Would you two like to take a look as well?”

“Go for it, Loona,” Blitzø said, nodding at the telescope. “Maybe you’ll end up wanting to join our space club. Wanna be secretary?”

“Fuck no. Not unless I’m getting paid,” she said as she climbed up the stairs past Blitzø.

“That’s my girl. Never do shit for free,” he agreed. She stopped to stand in front of the telescope, Stolas and Octavia moving to give her room as she bent down to look through the eyepiece.

“Damn. That’s a lotta stars. Wasn’t it foggy-as-fuck outside?” 

“Oh yes, very much so. But I took the liberty of using a bit of my magic to overcome that obstacle,” Stolas explained.

“The star at the very center is Polaris,” Octavia said. “And then if you look away from the telescope and at the sky,” she began, and Loona straightened up to look at the night sky visible through the exposed roof, “those two stars are Merak and Dubhe. See how they all line up?” She traced her pointer finger across the sky, Loona following its path.

“And humans know what time it is just by looking at them?” Loona asked, squinting her eyes. She was clearly skeptical. Blitzø was, too.

“Most humans don’t know they can tell time this way, actually,” Octavia answered.

“Can’t blame ‘em, I guess,” Loona said with a shrug. “Seems easier to just look at their phones.” Octavia nodded in agreement. Then she looked back up at the night sky, furrowing her brow thoughtfully.

“Dad, wasn’t there something else you taught me about the stars and time?

“Yes, dear. It’s a fact that I quite enjoy,” Stolas confessed. Blitzø perked up at that, listening closely. “The stars that we are looking at right now – we are actually seeing them as they were in the past.”

“Shit, really? How?” Loona asked, curious as she turned to look at Stolas, her feigned disinterest from earlier gone.

“It takes time for starlight to reach us here in the living world,” Stolas explained, hands clasped in front of him, assuming the posture of a professor. Damn, Blitzø’s imagination was running wild again. The fact that they’d never gotten around to desk sex was criminal. “So the farther away a star is from Earth, the further in the past is the version we are viewing now. In a way, it’s like we are time travelers! Isn’t that exciting?”

“What?” Blitzø blurted out, horny thoughts gone as quickly as they came (and boy was Stolas cumming quickly and often in those thoughts). The three of them turned to look at him, startled. “I-I mean, th-that’s crazy. Wooooow. Space! Time travel! Couldn’t…couldn’t be me. I mean, that sounds like something that isn’t even possible.” He paused. “Unless your fancy book…could it…could someone, I dunno, actually time travel using some spell or whatever? Like, if someone wanted to see what the stars looked like a long time ago, or something…”

“Using my grimoire?” Stolas asked, blinking at him. “I mean…yes, there is a spell for that. A very complicated one, however. I have never used it myself. It’s one of the spells we’re advised against actually attempting, since it can be quite unpredictable.”

‘Understatement of the fucking century,’ Blitzø thought to himself.

“But even if someone did travel to the past,” Octavia pointed out, “the stars they’d see would be stars from even further in the past. You’d only be able to see the stars as they truly are now if you get close enough to them.”

“That’s right! Which is what we can do easily with the grimoire!” Stolas said brightly.

“What if a star blows up?” Loona asked. “They do that sometimes, yeah? So would we be able to see it?”

“From this perspective,” Stolas said, gesturing to the room. “No. Not in real time, at least. We would only see the end of that star later. Once we have ‘caught up’, essentially.”

“Damn,” Loona said. “So right now we could be looking at stars that’re already long gone?”

“Hmm, yes. A bit of a depressing thought, I suppose,” Stolas said, furrowing his brow.

“What if we found out a star was about to beef it ahead a’ time?” Blitzø asked, and they all looked down at him, varying levels of interest in their expressions. “Then we could, I dunno, stop it, yeah? I mean, you have magic!” he pointed out, gesturing at Stolas. “You must be able to tell when a star is about to go tits up, can’t ya?”

“I mean, yes. That is part of my job as a steward of prophecies. But preventing a star from ‘going tits up’…that is outside of my jurisdiction,” Stolas explained. “I only study the flow of time. Perhaps I could nudge it, but I cannot fundamentally change its course -”

“Why not?” Blitzø asked, pushing off the stair railing and looking up at him.

“W-why not? It…it’s not in my power to do so -”

“But what if it was!” Blitzø pressed. “What if it is! I mean, shit, have you even tried?”

“Woah, chill out, Blitzø,” Loona said, looking between the two of them as if things were about to pop off.

“The grimoire is a serious responsibility,” Octavia said, crossing her arms and looking down at Blitzø. “My dad can’t just do whatever he wants. There are rules-”

“Fuck the rules!” Blitzø said with a scoff, putting a hand on his hip. Octavia’s eyes widened. Then he glanced over to see the conflicted expression on Stolas’ face, the way he nervously intertwined his fingers. Blitzø quickly dropped his hand, expression softening. “I just – I didn’t mean – I was only wondering if –” he saw the way they were all looking down at him, as if he’d finally lost it.

Fuck. Why’d be open his big, impulsive mouth? It’s not like it really mattered what he thought. He was just spewing bullshit.

“Forget it. I don’t know what I’m even saying,” he said with an empty laugh. He clenched his jaw, looking away from them all. “I’m gonna – I think I just need some air. This room’s stuffy-as-fuck.”

“It’s okay, Blitzy –” Stolas began, and Blitzø hesitated for a moment, but then he felt another flare of embarrassment. Was that pity in Stolas’ expression? He quickly turned, heading for the door.

“I’m fine!” he assured Stolas. “Look at more stars!” He waved his hand as he hurried out of the room, possessed by the need to run.

As soon he was outside, the door swinging closed behind him, he took a deep breath of cold night air, leaning against the curved wall of the dome. Everything was quiet and still. Rubbing his temples, he began walking across the empty terrace. He looked over to see the tiny lights from houses and buildings below.

With no destination in mind, he wandered over to the white wall facing the city. It was about his height and surrounded the second story of the building. He decided to hoist himself on top of it, moving to sit down. His legs dangled over the edge, the heels of his boots tapping against it.

“Damn,” he said under his breath, pressing his palms against the concrete wall as he leaned backwards, tilting his face up to the sky. He shook his head. He wasn’t sure what came over him. Something about the conversation just freaked him out.

He looked at the sky above him, noticing the clusters of shining stars he couldn’t name, and then the city skyline below, both glittering in their own ways. Objectively, it was a beautiful view. But the hugeness of it all reminded him of how small he was. And it wasn’t just huge, apparently. The stars he was looking right now didn’t even exist in the same time as him.

He remembered the sad look in his Stolas’ eyes when they were talking on the fire escape. Stolas had felt just as untouchable then. No, not just then. Stolas – every version of him – just felt so fucking untouchable. And now Blitzø had the chance to prevent Stolas from blowing up his entire life for his sake, but what if he actually couldn’t do anything about it? If someone as powerful as Stolas didn’t believe that changing the inevitable was possible, what chance did he have?

He remembered what it felt like to get possessed in that creepy-ass dogshit hotel, forced to watch his many fuck-ups. It’s not like he had a stellar track record. So why did he always think that he could do things that other, better demons couldn’t?

He looked down at his pendant, which was currently attached to the center of his belt. The skull seemed to be looking out at the view as well. He frowned, pressing his palms even harder into the concrete. It felt like sandpaper against his skin.

Why did he think he could prevent fires, when all he ever did was start them?

“Blitzø?” a gentle voice said, and Blitzø flinched, hand on his holster as he quickly turned. His eyes widened slightly when he saw Stolas standing behind him. The bird was holding his arms against his chest, looking uncertain. But his smile was kind. Blitzø relaxed, dropping his hand and moving to face the skyline once more.

“Hey princey,” he said, feeling his embarrassment flaring up again. He hunched his shoulders. He was so pathetic. But he didn’t have to act like it. So he put on a large grin, shifting to face Stolas again and patting the space next to him. “Join me? Managed to find a nice view.” He gave Stolas a flirty look, raking his eyes over the length of his long body before meeting the bird’s gaze again. “And I’ve seen some pretty nice views today. I’d say this one is a close second.” He nodded at the skyline before waggling his brows at Stolas. Stolas scoffed, biting back his grin as he shook his head.

“Relentless,” the bird said under his breath. But he drew closer, moving to rest his elbows on the wall next to Blitzø. “The girls went to check out the planetarium,” he explained, turning his face to look over at him.

“Didn’t wanna join ‘em?” Blitzø asked. Then he felt guilty. “Don’t feel like ya need to hang back for my sake.” He nodded at the door that led to the telescope. “You should be having fun. It’s your day -”

“Maybe I wanted to enjoy this view, too,” Stolas interrupted with a small smile. He was still looking at Blitzø, though. Not at the sky. Not at the buildings below. Blitzø felt his cheeks warm, and in the same moment a cold breeze blew through. He watched as Stolas shivered. Blitzø quickly shrugged off his jacket. “Oh, I-I’m fine, Blitzy –”

“Take it,” Blitzø said, scooting closer to him to throw his jacket over Stolas’ shoulders. The bird was lanky-as-fuck, but the jacket was comically small on him. They blinked at each other. Then they broke into laughter. Still giggling, Stolas rested the sleeves over his shoulders, tying them in a loose loop. It looked like Stolas was wearing a small leather cape over his big fancy one.

“Dumbass move on my part,” Blitzø said with a grin.

“Chivalrous is a more accurate word. Thank you, Blitzy,” Stolas said, giving him an appreciative nod, the corners of his beak twitched up in a small, pleased smile. Then his expression looked more uncertain. “Ah, back there –”

“Don’t worry your pretty head about it,” Blitzø said, waving him off. “I got carried away. That’s all.” He paused. “Sorry if I was –”

“Don’t worry your pretty head about it,” Stolas repeated back with a teasing smirk. “Or would you rather me say your – what was it? Bangable head?” Blitzø barked out a laugh, and Stolas flushed crimson, seeming to just realize what he said. “I-I didn’t mean it like –”

“Thinking about my bangable head, are ya?” Blitzø asked with a shit-eating grin. He leaned back further on his hands, spreading his legs wider, enough to make his meaning clear. “It appreciates your concern.”

“Well that’s all the c-concern it’s getting!” Stolas stumbled out, still looking flustered. His tail feathers flared out slightly. Blitzø continued to grin. Another point for him. He always played to win.

“Seems like the girls are gettin’ along,” Blitzø offered, feeling merciful enough to change the subject. “Loona’s usually prickly around new demons. And old demons. Yeeeeaah basically everyone.”

“Yes, Octavia seems to really like Loona,” Stolas agreed, clearing his throat. His flush was fading. “They were talking about one of Via’s favorite bands as they left,” he added, a happy smile back on his face. He paused, tapping his talons against the concrete and giving Blitzø a once-over. “Thank you for planning this. Sincerely. I think having a change of scenery was good for her.” He looked up at the sky. “Good for me, as well.”

“I aim to please,” Blitzø said, looking up at the sky, too. The moon was only a sliver, but still glowing bright in the sky. “And I’m the tits at aiming. And pleasing,” he couldn’t help but add, giving Stolas’ hip a playful whack with his tail. Stolas scoffed, shaking his head.

“I bet you are more than proficient in both, Blitzy,” he said amicably, stubbornly not getting as flustered this time around, though Blitzø clocked the hint of pink in his downy cheeks. He watched as Stolas continued to look up at the sky, as if he was drinking in every star.

Being out here with Stolas made him feel more at ease. He could almost forget how he was constantly toeing the line between fixing things and fucking things. He could even fool himself into believing that this was the Stolas he’d left on his couch, and that they were living in a reality where his bird still had everything – his powers, his status, most importantly, his daughter. And Blitzø could still be part of it. Stolas wanted him to be a part of it. Nothing had to be sacrificed in order for him to be happy.

“When I first learned about how stars eventually die,” Stolas said, voice quiet and brow furrowed thoughtfully. “I would be lying if I said it didn’t bother me. I mean, I get to be immortal, and I’m just…” Blitzø watched, blinking in surprise. Stolas sighed, still looking at the sky as if he was talking to the moon. “I scoured my grimoire trying to find some spell that could save a star from meeting its end.” He let out a hollow laugh. “I was unsuccessful, to say the least. However…as I grew older I began to wonder if endings were that bad after all.”

“I dunno, I think blowing up is pretty bad,” Blitzø pointed out. “Coming from someone who’s blown up a fuck-ton of stuff. And demons. And people. And private property.” Stolas laughed softly behind his hand.

“Even so, I have come to realize that everything has its course. Perhaps such a destiny gives existence meaning.”

“Yeeeaaah I’m not quite picking up what you’re putting down, princey,” Blitzø confessed, scratching his head. Stolas smiled at him sweetly. Then Blitzø’s eyes widened as Stolas reached over to place a hand on his cheek, resting his thumb on Blitzø’s chin.

Blitzø swallowed thickly. He couldn’t resist stealing glances at Stolas’ pretty smile, the curve of his throat, the way his jacket looked wrapped about those slender shoulders. Leather meeting fancy fabric and gold buttons. He found himself beginning to lean in, completely enthralled, but then Stolas gently directed his face over and upwards at the sky.

“Do you see that bright star next to the moon?” Stolas asked, hand still on his cheek, seemingly ignorant of what he was doing to Blitzø right now. Blitzø blinked as he looked up at the moon, trying to ignore the temptation to grab the sleeves of his leather jacket and pull Stolas in for a kiss. He squinted his eyes, and a second later he spotted a bright star next to the moon.

“Y-yeah,” Blitzø said, clearing his throat. “I think so.” Stolas pulled his grimoire out from his cape and set it down on the wall with his free hand. It began to glow. A squiggly blue circle appeared in the sky, and suddenly Blitzø could see a red-orange sphere. It was like Stolas had taken a screenshot of the sky and went to town on the zoom.

“It’s actually a planet,” Stolas explained. “Mars, to be exact.”

“And does the whole weird-ass time thing apply to it, too?”

“Yes,” Stolas said, sounding amused. “But we’re only twenty minutes behind, at most. Can be as little as five.”

“Not bad,” Blitzø mused. Not the huge distance he was imagining.

“Humans have sent little robots to Mars,” Stolas said quietly, as if he was sharing a secret. His hand slid off of Blitzø’s cheek as they looked at Mars together. “They named one of these rovers ‘Opportunity’. It lived an uncharacteristically long lifespan. 60 times what was expected. Its final resting place is in what the humans call ‘Perseverance Valley’.”

“Sounds like a tough robot.” If he had one of those kinda robots and it could shoot a gun, he’d consider replacing Moxxie with it. He grinned as he imagined how Moxxie would react. Overreact, knowing him. Maybe he’d suggest it during their next meeting just to piss him off.

“Oh yes. It was remarkably resilient. And the humans grew quite attached. They even played a song for the rover as their final goodbye."

“Yikes. A goodbye song? Sounds like bitch behavior,” Blitzø said, raising a brow and looking over at Stolas. “I mean, it’s just a robot.” He thought about that robo-Fizz at Loo Loo Land and shuddered. Christ on a stick, it was still kicking, wasn’t it? Since he hadn’t blown up the amusement park yet. On second thought, fuck robots. Creepy little shits. Maybe he wouldn’t replace Moxxie with one after all. He could still pretend he was going to, though, next time Moxxie was up his ass.

“Perhaps,” Stolas said with a nod. “But I find something lovely about it. Humans cared about a little robot on an entirely different planet. A robot that they knew would stop working eventually. We care about stars that exist lightyears away that have limited lifespans as well…” He hesitated, tearing his gaze away from Mars to look at Blitzø. “I…” he clenched his fists as if he was steeling himself.

Blitzø raised both brows at him, but said nothing, waiting for him to continue.

“I thought about you after that playdate,” Stolas confessed. “I never knew what happened to you. I…I always wondered. I asked my father, but he told me that there were more important things that I needed to be doing rather than asking about some…well, some random imp child.” He hesitated again, clasping his hands together and resting them on the wall. He looked down at them shyly. “I suppose you may think that I am being too sentimental. But even though our time together that day was short, and even though we are only meeting again now, and live in quite different worlds…well, I found that day to be one of the most meaningful in my life so far. Perhaps those constraints gave it meaning.” He let out a quiet scoff, shaking his head. “When you think about it, the odds of us meeting at all were infinitesimally small…”

Blitzø placed his hand on top of Stolas’, and Stolas looked over at him in surprise.

“You’re right…that is sentimental-as-fuck,” Blitzø said seriously. Then he flashed Stolas a teasing smile. Stolas let out an amused huff, rolling his eyes. He tried moving his hands away, but Blitzø scooted even closer, folding his legs under himself and taking both of Stolas’ hands in his own. Stolas looked at him in surprise. “I’m gonna argue with you, big bird, but hear me out, ‘kay?”

“O-okay,” Stolas said, all four of his eyes wide. Blitzø noticed the way this throat bobbed as he swallowed. The blue squiggly magic disappeared, Mars going back to looking like a distant star. The grimoire was no longer glowing.

“You’re too focused on the shit outside our control. ‘Destiny’. ‘Endings’. Eh, whatever. It’s tryna push against the idea that anything’s outta our control that really matters. I mean, look at me!” he said. “I was just some ‘random imp child’ who grew up in the circus. I never had authority over dick until I forced my life to change. Cuz it was either that or roll over. And I ain’t no bitch.”

“But there are some aspects of life that are impossible to change,” Stolas argued, eyes still wide. Blitzø gave his hands an affectionate squeeze.

“Yeah, sure. Ya got me there. But there’re some things that only seem impossible. And ya won’t know the difference if you don’t test it for yourself, yeah? It’s testing those limits that really give life meaning…oooor something,” he finished weakly, looking down at their hands and suddenly feeling self-conscious and cut open.

He’d never explained all this out loud to someone before. He’d never even verbalized these feelings to himself. But when he really thought about it, they’d always been buried under the surface, nested deep within his heart without him fully realizing. Damn. Did Stolas have some kinda secret magic power that made him word-vomit like this?

“Now don’t get me wrong, I love me some restraints, but only the sexy kind,” he decided to add with a wink, trying to race past this sudden vulnerability. Trying to break whatever spell he was under as he felt himself getting lost in those curious ruby eyes.

“Testing the limits…” Stolas repeated quietly, sounding distracted as he began to stare off into space, breaking their eye contact. He shook his head, flitting his gaze back to Blitzø.  “You’re -”

“Shit I know, I probably sound crazy,” Blitzø interrupted with a sheepish smile. Fuck. He didn’t want Stolas to think he was crazy. Why was he even arguing with the bird? That wasn’t gonna get Stolas to fall in love with him.

“No, not at all!” Stolas said quickly. “You’re very smart, Blitzø. That’s what I was going to say.” Blitzø let out a laugh.

“You sound surprised.” But Blitzø was really the one who was surprised. He’d been called a lotta things, but ‘smart’ wasn’t one of ‘em.

“I’m not!” Stolas protested. “I thought the same thing when we were kids. I remember thinking that you were quite brave as well.” He hesitated, giving him a shy look before looking out at the city view. “Much braver than I,” he confessed quietly.

“Can I let you in on a secret?” Blitzø asked, the words tumbling out.

“Of course,” Stolas breathed, attention back on Blitzø. They were still holding hands, their faces inches apart now. The space between them was a tiny universe of their own, one Blitzø desperately wanted to traverse. It was a distance that’d be so easy to close, but at the same time felt massive. And as sexy as feeling massive things sounded, it held Blitzø back.

Because most of the time, any outward bravery on Blitzø’s part was fueled by his own fear. That was the secret. A lot of the time, even when it didn’t seem like it, he was afraid. That’s why he was sitting here staring at Stolas like a dumbass instead of pinning him down on this wall and kissing him. Because what if he was reading things wrong? What if this wasn’t the right time? What if he fucked everything up?

Doing everything right for once – was it one of those things that only seemed impossible, or was it actually impossible? He still wasn’t sure. He needed to be sure. Because he didn’t think he’d get a third chance.

“The secret’s that I’m freezing my tits off!” Blitzø decided to say, springing up to stand. He hastily dusted off his pants. “So how ‘bout we head back inside and–”

Like a complete fucking idiot he lost his balance, legs having fallen asleep after sitting on them for so long. He waved his arms wildly as he began to teeter towards the wall and off the whole-ass building.

Eating shit on Stolas’ balcony had been bad enough. As he looked down at the dark void below, he had a feeling this wasn’t the typa fall he could just walk off.

But before he fell off the building and broke a few bones, Stolas hastily rushed forward to grab him from behind, clasping Blitzø to his chest.

“Holy fuck!” Stolas said, and Blitzø could feel the bird’s rapidly beating heart against his back. His forehead was pressed against one of Blitzø’s shoulders, his long arms wrapped around his stomach. Blitzø began to laugh. “Are you seriously laughing right now? That scared the shit out of me!” Stolas said in a rush, clearly exasperated.

“Didn’t realize I was that close to fallin’ for ya,” Blitzø joked, grin spreading as he looked up at the night sky, Stolas arms still wrapped around him. The bird was warm, and he found himself leaning back into it.

He was expecting another scoff in return, but Stolas said nothing in reply. Worried, Blitzø shifted in Stolas’ embrace to see that his white downy cheeks were flushed red. His hands had moved to Blitzø’s hips. They were about the same height, Blitzø an inch or two taller now that he was standing on the wall.

“I know that that was another clown joke,” Stolas said, a quiet desperation in his voice. “But w-what if…what if I desired… what if I wanted to…to test some limits r-right now?” Blitzø’s eyes widened in surprise, lips parting. The way Stolas was looking at him…maybe this wasn’t so impossible. Maybe the distance between them wasn’t so far. And maybe he could close it right here, right now.

A first kiss on the roof of an observatory – that did sound like the kinda romantic shit Stolas would love. Loads better than a first kiss under some fucked contract…

Blitzø rested a hand on Stolas’ cheek, rubbing his thumb slowly across soft feathers. His eyes were still wide. Stolas’ were too. His beak was parted, and that crimson flush had turned into a rosy glow. Everything about Stolas was so damn attractive. He looked good in every shade of red.

“I bet you’re pretty fuckin’ good at tests, huh,” Blitzø said, voice low and gravelly as his gaze kept flicking between Stolas’ beak and his glowing, pupilless eyes. He slid his hand to rest along Stolas’ jawline, gently tilting the bird’s chin upwards. With his other hand he grabbed the knot made from his jacket sleeves, using it to pull Stolas another inch closer.

“I d-do love tests,” Stolas confessed, sounding breathless.

Blitzø’s self-restraint was crumbling. There was still a voice in the back of his mind screaming at him that this was a bad idea. That things weren’t perfect yet. That he was about to fuck up any progress he’d made. But he was tired of listening to that voice, especially when he had Stolas in his hands, looking at him with that wide-eyed, innocent gaze laced with fresh desire.

His head quickly filled with nothing but the beautiful bird in front of him, that inner voice getting thrown out and curb-stomped like the annoying bitch it was. The only goal he had now was to finally, finally pull Stolas in for a searing kiss. To feel the heat of his mouth. The slide of his tongue. The scrape of talons against his neck as Stolas held him close  – 

“Blitzø?” Stolas asked, voice small and wanting. All four eyes were trained on Blitzø’s lips. That was the last straw.

Blitzø’s gaze fixated on that familiar beak, remembering all the things it’d done to him in the past. His muscles tensed, like a predator ready to pounce –

But Blitzø always had shit luck, so in that same moment a phone began to ring loudly.

“Shit!” Blitzø said, startled as he let go of Stolas. He almost fell off the roof again, but Stolas was there to steady him with one hand on his back, the other hand hastily reaching into his pants’ pocket. With a bit of fumbling Stolas managed to pull out his phone, which was still ringing.

“Oo-h for fuck’s sake,” Stolas said, looking down at his phone, the glow from the screen illuminating his expression, which was shifting between flustered and pissed. “You would think she knows magic with how often she chooses the absolute worst time to badger me.” Stolas denied the call, and immediately the phone started ringing again. Christ on a stick.

Blitzø had a feeling he knew who was calling. Dammit. That bitch ruined everything. Stolas silenced his phone, clicking his beak in agitation and putting it back in his pocket. Blitzø raised a brow.

“Not gonna answer it?” he asked. Stolas pouted.

“I was worried that Octavia was looking for us,” he explained. “She can wait.” Blitzø tried to ignore how cute his expression was, how much he wanted to smooth the furrow between the bird’s brows. Then a charged silence fell over them, as they both seemed to realize what almost happened.

Getting interrupted by the ex – no, current wife was definitely a boner-killer…fuck, Stolas was still married. And Octavia, how could he forget about how she’d react? What if she walked in on them making out? And if Blitzø had his way, they woulda been doing a lot more than that. Blitzø dragged his gaze across Stolas’ body. It was still tempting.

“Right!” Stolas said, dropping his hand from Blitzø’s back and taking a step backwards. Blitzø got whiplash from how rapidly he was pulled away from his horny thoughts. “Didn’t you say that you were cold?” He took Blitzø’s jacket off of his shoulders, holding it back out to him. “A-apologies for forgetting. I suppose my memory can be spotty after all,” he said with a nervous laugh, rocking on his talons as he clasped his hands behind his back. He used his magic to levitate the grimoire, sliding it somewhere within his cape. “S-shall we, um, head back inside?”

Blitzø was more resolved than ever to shoot that cockblocking whore-bag.

“Sure. Whatever ya want, princey,” Blitzø said, hopping off the wall and putting his jacket back on. He fixed his collar, shoving his hands in his pockets as he tried not to think about how much he wished his hands were wandering over this bird’s body instead. “Wanna go find the girls?”

“I want…” Stolas said, hesitating. Blitzø raised a brow at him. He watched as Stolas shifted on his feet, running nervous hands through his tail feathers. Then he shook his head, a small almost imperceptible gesture, but Blitzø clocked it easily. He’d been slowly getting better at tracking his Stolas’ microexpressions.

But wait, wasn’t this technically his Stolas, too? Just a past version? Blitzø glanced up at the sky, looking at the stars. Sure, what was in front of him was a version from the past, but everything would catch up eventually, right?

“Good idea, Blitzy,” this Stolas – his Stolas, said, letting go of his tail feathers. “Hopefully we will not be interrupting their fun.”

‘Yeah, like your annoying-ass wife interrupted ours,’ Blitzø thought to himself. But they were talking about two very different versions of fun.

“If we catch them smokin’ cigs it’s not my fault,” Blitzø said instead, and Stolas’ eyes widened at that. “I was extorted! The two of ‘em together’s a dangerous combo, princey.” Stolas blinked at him, and then he let out an amused laugh, hiding his smile behind his hand.

“Reminds me of when we were kids,” Stolas confessed. “Not quite taking drugs, but my butler was quite stern with me when he found out that we had broken a few expensive pieces. And that some went missing.”

“Riiiiiiight, missing,” Blitzø said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Weeeeeird.” Stolas rolled his eyes, dropping his hand so Blitzø saw his exasperated smile.

“I know you took them,” he said, and Blitzø’s eyes widened. “Well, I suppose I didn’t know right away, but I eventually came to that realization. That’s what that rude imp you know was referring to in the plant shop, yes? When he mentioned you stealing my ‘shit’ before?”

“I…” Blitzø began, tapping his fingers together nervously. Then he sighed and dropped his hands. “Uh, yeah. Sorry ‘bout that. Would ya believe me if I said I was basically extorted then, too?” Stolas let out an amused puff of air. Then he began walking towards the largest of the three domes, the one in the center.

“I suppose I cannot blame someone for their actions when they were under duress –”

“I wasn’t wearin’ any dress, but you bet your ass I’d look damn good in one,” Blitzø said, confused as he hurried to keep up with him. Stolas giggled. They’d reached the door leading to the big dome. Blitzø guessed that it led to the planetarium, if he was remembering the map correctly. Loona had done most of the navigating.

“Duress means forced, basically,” Stolas explained. “The kind of circumstances that may be quite difficult, if not impossible, to overcome due to some external pressure. Even if you wished it could be different.” Blitzø watched as Stolas’ brow furrowed, looking suddenly more serious. Gloomier. He opened his beak as if to say something more, but then stopped himself.

Blitzø watched as he waved a hand, using his magic to open the door, but Blitzø hastily rushed over to close it, resting his back against it and looking up at Stolas. Stolas looked down at him in surprise.

“Is everything alright, Blitzy?” His tone was warm, curious, but why did his expression still look so sad? This was a version of Stolas whose life hadn’t gotten fucked up by Blitzø yet. He still had everything that was important to him. So why?

Then Blitzø remembered their conversation back at the diner -

‘Sometimes we must do what our station demands of us, whether we want to or not.’

And back at the plant shop –

‘And when you are trying to conceive an heir, it can…help make the process...easier.’

He’d been so distracted by the idea of having a horned-up Stolas under him that he didn’t think about why Stolas would need those aphrodisiacs in the first place. He was such a dumbass.

‘But there are some aspects of life that are impossible to change.’

Blitzø was starting to understand something that felt important, and was kicking himself for only beginning to put some shit together now.

“What’ve you been forced to do, birdie?” he found himself asking, voice gentle, barely heard over the cool night breeze that cut through them. He glanced at Stolas’ pocket, where he’d put his phone away, then looked back up at those ruby reds. Stolas’ beak was parted in surprise, his eyes impossibly wider.

“O-oh, um, forced? M-me?” Stolas said, letting out a nervous laugh. “W-we were talking about you, Blitzy –”

Suddenly the door swung violently outwards and Blitzø was catapulted forwards, knocking the lanky-ass bird off balance as they both toppled to the ground.

“Fuckin’ ow,” Blitzø said with a wince, rubbing his spine. He looked down to see Stolas laying under him in a very compromising position. The hand Blitzø was using to hold himself up was planted on the ground next to Stolas’ head. His legs were on either side of the bird’s long torso, caging him in. His gaze traced over Stolas’ flushed, shocked expression, and then at the way his arms were splayed on the ground as if in surrender. Blitzø’s tail whished around as if it had a mind of his own.

The intense need to kiss him crashed over him like a wave, his eyes flitting between Stolas’ eyes and his beak. He licked his lips, moving the hand that’d been rubbing his bruised back to reach towards Stolas, planning to apply a practiced amount of pressure around the bird’s neck, just the way he liked it as he moved in for the kiss -

“Dammit Blitzø! I told you not to fuck in the same room as me!” Blitzø whipped his head around to see Loona and Octavia standing in the doorway, Loona holding the door open with one hand and blocking Octavia’s eyes with the other.

“Woah woah it’s not like that!” Blitzø said quickly, seeing Loona’s pissed expression. Then he caught glimpses of Octavia’s discomfort, and maybe worry. He was reaching for her dad’s neck. He wasn’t sure how obvious that was. Fuck. He quickly snatched his hand away as he looked back down at Stolas, who was still looking up at him with a flushed, dazed expression. “You okay?” he asked. Stolas continued to stare at him dumbly. Shit. He hoped the bird didn’t have a concussion.

He moved off of him, quickly standing up and grabbing Stolas’ hands to bring him to his feet as well. Once Stolas was upright, he turned to face the girls again. “You really swung the shit outta that door, Loonie. It knocked us over.” Loona shrugged.

“Your fault for standing so close to it,” she reasoned, dropping the hand blocking Octavia’s eyes. Octavia looked more relaxed than she did a moment ago. Blitzø sighed.

“Yeah, fair enough. How was the planetarium?”

“Cool I guess,” Loona said with a shrug. “What’d you think?” she asked, looking over at Octavia.

“I had fun,” Octavia said shyly. “We mostly listened to music. Loona and I like the same stuff.”

“Hell yeah we do,” Loona said, offering her fist. Octavia tapped it with her own, tucking a stray feather behind her ear as she smiled.

“We ate the rest of the snacks, too,” Octavia added. “Um, thanks for getting them,” she said to Blitzø. Blitzø’s expression softened.

“Sure thing, sweetie.” Octavia scoffed at the use of ‘sweetie’ but seemed happy enough. Then her expression shifted into mild suspicion, eyes flitting over to look at her dad.

“So what were you two doing out here, then?” 

“If you really weren’t doing each other,” Loona added, looking suspiciously between the two of them as well. Blitzø glanced over to see the pink flush on Stolas’ cheeks as he fidgeted with his hands.

“I needed some air,” Blitzø said with a shrug, trying to keep his tone casual. “Like I said when I left.”

“A-and I mentioned that I would check on him,” Stolas reminded them.

“Riiiight,” Loona said, still looking between the two of them. “So you just talked, then.”

“Yep!” Blitzø said.

“Mum called me and said that you were ignoring her calls,” Octavia explained, still looking over at her dad. “She said that you two agreed that I would be home by now.” Blitzø saw the way Stolas’ expression fell.

“We didn’t –” Stolas began, but then he closed his eyes and took a breath, clasping his hands together. He opened his eyes again. “I suppose it is getting late, and your mother was…anxious about you being in the living world for so long.”

“She still thinks I’m a child,” Octavia said, frowning. “Didn’t you tell her that this was important for my training? To know how humans think? To study the stars from a new perspective?”

“You know that your mother can be…stubborn, dearest,” Stolas said carefully. “We should count ourselves lucky that we were able to do this much without too much of a fuss.” Octavia held her arms to her chest, looking away. Blitzø looked over at Stolas in surprise. Was there a chance that they weren’t gonna be able to go on this trip at all? Was that what their ‘long conversation’ was about? But why did Stella even give a fuck? It wasn’t like Octavia was gonna be in any danger. They were just looking through a telescope for Satan’s sake.

“You always just go along with whatever she wants,” she grumbled. Blitzø’s brows raised at that, looking over at Octavia now. She scoffed. “Whatever. Let’s go home, I guess.”

“Wait a sec,” Loona said, pulling out her phone. “Didn’t you mention wanting to take a picture?”

“Oh. Right,” Octavia said, back to looking shy all of a sudden. She glanced over at Stolas and Blitzø. “Loona and I took some pictures together, and I thought that we could, I dunno, get a picture of all four of us, or whatever…i-it was a stupid idea -” 

“That’s an excellent idea!” Stolas said, clapping his hands. He seemed back to his energetic self again, the heaviness and gloom from a minute ago suddenly gone as if it was never there in the first place. “Where shall we take it?” Loona looked around.

“How ‘bout over there? It’s a nice view.” she suggested, nodding towards the wall.

“Sounds good to me!” Stolas said. He walked over to loop his arm through Octavia’s, leading them over to the wall. Blitzø heard him begin to ask her more about the planetarium, which seemed to brighten her mood.

“You two really weren’t getting it on out here?” Loona asked. Blitzø looked up at her in surprise.

“N-no! Why would you even think we were?” Blitzø countered, trying to sound casual but knowing that he was doing a shit job. He put his hands on his hips. “Anyone would be lucky to tap all this, and usually I’m happy and horny enough to give, but this is a job, if you forgot. Gotta keep it profesh.”

“So if it wasn’t a job you’d totally do him,” Loona pointed out, raising a brow.

“I-I mean, it’s not – I wouldn’t – well, I would – but only…it’s not like that –” Blitzø stumbled out like a fucking idiot. Loona let out an amused puff of air, pulling her phone out of her pocket.

“That’s all I needed to know. I’ll make sure to keep that piece of information up here the next time you break into my room,” she said, tapping a claw to her temple and turning to join Stolas and Octavia by the wall. They were looking up at the stars, pointing things out to each other. “I bet his wife would love to know –”

“Loona,” Blitzø said firmly, and Loona looked at him in surprise, stopping in her tracks. Blitzø realized that his fists were clenched. He released them, trying to loosen the anxiety that had suddenly twisted and knotted in his chest. Fuck. He’d rarely used that tone with Loona. He sighed, putting a hand on his hip. He kicked a pebble with his boot.

“I don’t actually snoop around in your room,” he confessed, and Loona looked even more surprised. “Yeah, I did pick your lock one time, but that was only to make sure that I could. What if there was an emergency and I couldn’t get to you?” He exhaled. “I wouldn’t invade your privacy, Loona, but I do wanna make sure that you’re safe, ‘kay?” He looked over at Octavia. Call it intuition, but he just didn’t buy that her mom didn’t want her to be here because she was worried about her.

There was a difference between being protective and being controlling. Between showing care and forcing obedience. He knew that from personal experience.

And he was beginning to wonder if Stolas knew that from personal experience, too

“Promise?” Loona asked, tone gentler than it’d been since he’d been flung back to the past. Blitzø walked over to put a hand on her arm, but as he got close he stopped himself, dropping his hand.

“Promise. I do snoop around M&M’s room, though,” he said, cracking a smile. “Gotta keep tabs on what sex toys they’re working with.” Loona scoffed.

“Moxxie must fucking hate that,” she said. Blitzø laughed.

“He does.” Loona let out a laugh of her own, and then she gave Blitzø’s shoulder a gentle shove before heading over to where Stolas and Octavia were standing.

“C’mon idiot. Picture time." Blitzø followed after her, a smile still on his lips.

The four of them clustered next to the wall, the glittering city in the background. Blitzø lifted himself up onto the wall, moving to stand between Stolas and Octavia, Loona standing in the front and holding out her phone. He felt a hand rest on his lower back, and he looked over to see Stolas shooting him a bashful look.

“So you don’t almost fall a second time,” Stolas explained quietly, leaning over to whisper in his ear. Blitzø felt his face warm.

‘Too late for that, birdie,’ he thought, forcing himself to tear his gaze away so he could look at the camera. But he could still feel the warmth of Stolas’ hand on his back. The ghost of his breath in his ear.

“Time to smile, bitches,” Loona said, adjusting her phone to get the best angle. Octavia put a hand on Loona’s shoulder, lifting herself on her tiptoes. Loona flashed her a grin before looking back at her phone, and then began tapping her thumb against the screen a few times. She lowered her phone a moment later, scrolling through the pictures. “Hey, not bad,” she said, holding out the phone for Octavia to see, who was still peeking over her shoulder. Then she turned to face Stolas, showing him one of the pictures as well. “This is the best one. Happy birthday or whatever. This is supposed to be for your birthday, right?”

Stolas leaned down to look at Loona’s screen, his hands clasped together and tucked under his chin. His eyes lit up, a small, pleased smile on his face.

“It’s perfect,” he said, tone overflowing with sincerity. “Thank you, Loona.”

“Yeah, it’s whatevs,” she said with a shrug. Stolas’ expression softened.

“It’s much more than ‘whatevs’, dear,” he said. “I am so happy that you joined us.”

“Oh, uh, yeah. Not like I had much of a choice,” she said, shifting awkwardly on her feet. She glanced over at Octavia. “But it was fun. Thought you two would be a pair of stuck-up asswipes.” Stolas let out a surprised laugh.

“Well I’m certainty glad we didn’t end up fitting that description!” he said. Loona cracked a smile, putting a hand on her hip.

“I can always change my mind,” she warned, but her teasing tone was obvious.

“If I ever become a stuck-up asswipe I’ll hire you to take me out,” Octavia assured her. Loona barked out a laugh.

“Deal.”

“Octavia!” Stolas said, pressing a hand against his chest. “Don’t joke about such things!”

“Eh, don’t worry, princey. No employee of mine is gonna do a hit on your daughter,” Blitzø promised, giving Loona a pointed look. Loona flipped him off.

“Like you could stop me.”

“Don’t think I wouldn’t dock your pay,” he threatened, but he was grinning. Loona crossed her arms, biting back her own grin.

“Soft bitch.”

“That’s soft bitch boss while we’re on the clock,” he reminded her.

“Oh right,” Stolas said quietly, brow furrowed. The brightness in his expression was gone. “You’re currently on the clock. It's silly...I completely forgot for a moment.”

“It's not - that's not what I –” Blitzø began, but then he glanced at Loona and Octavia, “I meeeean, yeah, I guess you’re right.” Shit.

“Then what’s next soft bitch boss?” Loona asked, checking her claws. “Time for them to go back to their fancy palace, yeah? As this mysterious mom decreed?” Blitzø looked over at Stolas.

“Yes. I suppose it's time,” Stolas said, trying to give Blitzø a smile, but Blitzø could easily tell that it was forced-as-fuck.

No. The night couldn’t be over yet, could it? Blitzø didn’t like the idea of leaving Stolas now, not when the bird had that sad, defeated smile on his face. Not when he just learned that the farther he was from a star, the more out-of-sync he was with it. Wouldn’t it be better to keep it close? To keep Stolas close?

But how could he manage that without looking like a complete stalker freak?

Chapter Text

Blitzø watched as Stolas opened up a portal, revealing the palace hall and Octavia’s bedroom door.

“Gonna keep standing there looking like a dumbass, or are you gonna make us a portal too?” Loona asked, glancing at the crystal on Blitzø’s wrist before looking at him, raising a brow.

“Yeah. Right,” he said, rubbing the crystal absentmindedly as he looked over at Stolas and Octavia. His portal opened in the middle of the living room, right in front of the couch.

“I’m out. Text me that song you were talking about,” Loona said to Octavia. Octavia looked at her in surprise, and then she smiled.

“Yes, will do. Send me that picture you took.”

“Sure thing,” Loona said with a nod. With that she stepped through the portal Blitzø made. Once she reached her bedroom door she turned to look back at Blitzø, brow raised again.

“I’m gonna…stick around for another minute,” he explained. Loona narrowed her eyes, gaze flicking over to Stolas before looking back at him. She opened her mouth, and Blitzø had a feeling she was about to say something he’d rather not have Stolas hear. So he reached out his arms, taking a step towards the portal. “Unless you want me to tuck ya in Loonie-Toonieee –” Her bedroom door slammed closed before he could finish his sentence. He dropped his arms, letting out am amused puff of air. Yeah. Thought so.

“I love you so much my little starfire,” Stolas cooed. Blitzø looked over to see him give Octavia a peck on her forehead, cradling her cheeks with his hands as he smiled down at her. “I am so happy that we could share this experience.”

“Yeah, me too,” she confessed. “It’s been a while since we spent time together like this. I…missed it, or whatever.”

“I have missed it as well,” Stolas admitted. “I’ll do better. Soon you’ll be so terribly sick of me -” he began peppering her with kisses and she let out a hoot of protest, laughing as she tried to wriggle out of his grip.

“Okay, okay!” she said, peeling herself away and still laughing. Stolas let go of her, a happy smile on his face. One he didn’t try to hide.

She fixed her beanie as she glanced up at him, seeming to consider something. Then she rushed forward to pull him into a hug. Stolas let out a surprised chirp as the wind got knocked out of him, but he quickly hugged her back, tucking his chin over her shoulder as he relaxed into it.

Blitzø shifted awkwardly on his feet, not knowing exactly how to feel as he watched them. Stolas just looked so…at peace. Blitzø couldn’t help but compare it to the expression he’d gotten used to seeing on future Stolas' face. Empty. Defeated. Miserable.

He suddenly felt like he was intruding. Should he just fuck off and step through the portal? He figured he should at least say goodnight. A big part of him was still tempted to make up some excuse that’d delay saying goodbye as long as possible. But maybe that wasn’t the play here. Maybe it was better for him to slip away.

Fuck. Since when did he become the anxious, needy one? He hated cringe shit like that. It used to be the first sign that he needed to cut whatever bitch he was seeing loose before it got outta hand.

He never realized how scary the idea of being cut loose could be. He clenched his fists. He needed to get a fucking grip. He’d just call Stolas tomorrow. It wasn’t that serious. He turned, heading for his portal. Damn he was tired –

“Blitzy?” he quickly turned to see the betrayed expression on Stolas’ face, the bratty pout on his beak. “Just because you snuck into surprise me this morning doesn’t mean you can simply sneak away now.”

“I wasn’t sneaking,” Blitzø protested, putting a hand on his hip. “I’m just…ya know, letting you two go home.”

“Without saying goodbye?” Stolas asked. The quiet, sad way he said that made Blitzø fold easily.

“Course not,” he said, taking a step away from his portal and back towards them. He looked over at Octavia. “Sooo, did ya have fun?”

“I wasn’t expecting to, but I did,” Octavia admitted, letting go of her dad. Blitzø grinned.

“I’ll take it. With such high praise, I must be your favorite clown, yeah?” She scoffed, crossing her arms.

“Your competition was that creepy robo-clown from Loo Loo Land that terrified me as a child, so don’t start feeling too good about yourself." Blitzø shuddered.

“I hated that clown. Twisty, green-eyed fucker.” Octavia nodded in agreement. Then she stepped through the portal, opening her bedroom door. She looked over at her dad.

“You’re coming too, right?” she asked. Stolas hesitated, looking over at Blitzø. Blitzø scuffed his boot and put his hands in his pockets, trying to look as casual as possible. But in his head a voice was screaming for Stolas to say he’d stick around, if only for a little longer.

“I…Yes. Perhaps that’s for the best. It is quite late,” Stolas reasoned, stepping through the portal as well. Their portals were facing each other, the distance between them only about three feet. But Blitzø’s shitty living room and their fancy palace hallway felt like they were seven rings apart.

He found himself taking a step towards them, but then he stopped himself.

“Yeah. It’s late,” he agreed, unable to take his eyes off of Stolas.

“Yes,” Stolas said quietly. He and Octavia were both on the other side of the portal now, but Stolas was still keeping it open. Was he trying to put off this goodbye, too? Something about that warmed Blitzø’s insides. Knowing that Stolas didn’t wanna say goodbye either, that could be enough for now. He could ride that high tonight, and then he could come up with some new bullshit reason to see him again tomorrow.

“Welp," Blitzø said, putting his hands on his hips, "time for princey here to get his beauty rest. He sure as hell doesn’t need it, though –”

“STO-LAS! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?”

It was like time stopped for a moment. Like the air and warmth was sucked away from the space that the three of them were still occupying.

“I’m going to bed,” Octavia said, any amusement from earlier long gone, her expression wavering between frustration and anxiety. “This is what happens when you ignore her,” she grumbled, shooting Stolas a look before slipping inside her room and quietly closing the door.

“STO-LAS! YOU BETTER NOT BE HIDING!” Stella yelled, her voice closer now.

“Shit,” Stolas breathed, a panicked edge to his voice. He was hugging himself, shifting on his talons uncertainly as he looked around, as if he was choosing which direction to run. Blitzø watched with wide eyes.

Stolas was scared.

“YOU SPINELESS PRICK I SWEAR WHEN I FIND YOU –”

Blitzø quickly grabbed Stolas’ hands and yanked him forward, pulling him back onto the observatory roof, the portal dissipating. But he put too much sauce on it, cuz they stumbled through Blitzø’s portal.

“Fuck!” Blitzø yelped, feeling something bony jab his ribs as he fell back onto cheap couch cushions, the portal closing. Something pressed against his face. He quickly realized that it was Stolas’ crotch.

“Oh my!” Stolas said, the view changing as the bird hastily sat down. He was sitting in Blitzø’s lap now, hands holding the back of the couch on either side of Blitzø, knees touching the back of the couch, his feet hanging off the edge. Blitzø looked up at him, four large ruby eyes staring back.

“Uhhhhhhhhhh,” Blitzø said, finding it hard to form a coherent thought other than ‘Stolas’ ass is planted on my lap right now’. Yeaaaah. He was finding ‘it’ becoming a lot harder real fast.

“Didn’t want to say goodbye yet either?” Stolas asked, expression sweet and shy now, and so honest that Blitzø felt something swoop in his stomach.

“Didn’t want ya getting chewed out by your crazy wife,” Blitzø found himself admitting, honest in his own way, but he winced as he watched Stolas’ expression fall.

“Hm, yes. She didn’t sound like she was in a very good mood,” he agreed, gaze sliding away from Blitzø’s. He moved off of Blitzø’s lap to sit at one end of the couch, leaving space between them. He clasped his hands in his lap, looking ahead. “So perhaps it will be wise to avoid her for a little longer. Until she tires herself out and goes to sleep.” The way he said it made it sound like he'd used that tactic many times before.

‘How long does that usually take?” Blitzø asked, turning to face him, but Stolas wouldn’t meet his gaze. He was looking at the window instead, the blinds covering the view of the fire escape.

“It depends,” he said vaguely. “She can be quite unpredictable, even after so many years of knowing her.” He moved to stand. “But no matter! I suppose my 24-hours isn’t up yet, yes? So I would like to cash in the rest of my hours after all, please.” Blitzø blinked at him, surprised. He figured Stolas would be sick of him by now. He moved to stand as well.

“Yeah, sure thing princey. Whattaya wanna do?” He watched as Stolas looked around his apartment, eyes curious. Blitzø started to feel self-conscious. He hadn’t been planning on letting Stolas see his shitty apartment so soon. “Preferably somewhere that’s not here,” he added. “Loonie’s tryna sleep and all.”

“Yeah! Get the fuck out already!” Loona called out from her room.

“Oh, um...” Stolas said, clasping his hands together and nervously tapping his foot. “Well…what does one do when they're trying to avoid their wife?” Blitzø laughed.

“I know just the place,” he decided. He clocked the relief in Stolas’ expression. “But first ya gotta change.”

“But I don’t have a change of clothes with me,” Stolas pointed out. Fuck. Right. He gave the bird a once-over.

“I can grab something that’ll work. Just give me a sec, and ditch the cape while you’re at it.”

“Okay!” Stolas said, quickly unclasping it and shrugging it off his shoulders in a smooth, elegant gesture. Blitzø watched as the expensive, glittering material slid to the floor. Satan’s tight little taint was that sexy. And Stolas had no fucking clue. If it didn’t make Blitzø so horny he’d be pissed off.

“You’re, uh, good at following orders, huh,” he decided to joke, clearing his throat.

“I aim to please, boss,” Stolas teased back. Loud music began to blare from Loona’s room, her not-so-subtle way of tuning them out. And reminding them to get lost. 

"Wait here," Blitzø said, shooting Stolas finger guns before making his way to the bathroom. He began looking through the clothes he’d pinned up to dry. Or, really, that past him had pinned up to dry. He grabbed a yellow shirt with a horse on it. It was one of his favorites. He hesitated, and then he shook his head, putting it back. His eyes landed on another shirt, simple and red. He thought about what his leather jacket looked like on Stolas. This should fit a better. He yanked it off the clothespins. He was about to leave, satisfied, but then his eyes fell on the basket where he kept the clothes he didn’t wear as much. He set the red shirt aside and began to rummage through it, a specific top in mind.

He’d lost it a while back, but that was in the future. There was a chance he hadn’t lost it yet.

“Fuck yeah,” Blitzø said under his breath, holding the top out to make sure it was clean. He gave it the ol’ sniff test for good measure. Then he noticed the other piece he usually wore with it. It also went missing at some point. Damn. This would suit Stolas really fucking well. He grabbed that too and hurried back to the living room. Stolas was looking at the calendar on his wall, an amused smile on his lips.

“You have such silly drawings,” he observed. “I like to draw every once in a while, myself.” Blitzø’s eyes widened, remembering the ‘GIT BOOK GIT RICH’ note and rushed over to grab Stolas’ hand, spinning him around to face him and holding out two items of clothing. Stolas looked down at them in surprise.

“You want me to wear…this?”

“Yeah, you’ll fit right in,” Blitzø said. Stolas carefully took it, holding them up to get a better look. He looked confused. “Orrrrr I can grab somethin' else if –“

“No need!” Stolas said, smiling at him. “This looks quite fun! Certainly not my usual style, but I suppose much of today has already been out of the ordinary. I’ll go try it on!”

“Cool. Uh, bathroom’s over there,” Blitzø said, nodding at where he just came from. Stolas gave him a polite nod and made his way to the bathroom, giving Blitzø one last look before closing the door.

Blitzø exhaled, puffing out his cheeks as he looked at the calendar. End of this week. That’d been the plan. Where was the past version of him anyway? Part of him had been worried that the fucker was running around somewhere ready to shit on his plans, but there was no sign of him so far.

Maybe the book got rid of the past version of him all together when it stuck him here. It wasn’t the most comforting thought, but hey, at least it wasn’t him who got got. He walked over to where Stolas’ cape was on the floor, picking it up and draping it neatly over the beanbag chair. He ran his hand over the soft material, remembering the first time he saw it.

He’d been such a dick to Stolas. He had his reasons back then, but knowing everything he knew now, now that he was trying to understand, he couldn’t help but wish things shook out differently. Now they could, sure. Blitzø would still remember what happened the first time ‘round.

But the shitty version of him was gone. Figuratively and literally, apparently. That made him feel a little better, at least.

“Do I look okay?” Stolas asked. Blitzø turned to see Stolas walking out of the bathroom. He was still wearing the white, high waisted pants he had on earlier. But now he was wearing a tight-fitting, black halter top that showed off a strip of his midriff. He was nervously tugging at the black, mesh, long-sleeved shirt he was wearing over it. The material was thick enough that it didn’t show everything off, but just enough to make Blitzø’s hands twitch.

He looked really fucking hot.

“Y-yeah, you look good,” Blitzø said, gaze wandering over Stolas’ body. Stolas must’ve caught him looking, because he hid a smile behind his hand and looked shyly away.

“Good,” he said. “I elected to put my grimoire back on my bookshelf so I wouldn’t have to carry it around. It’d be troublesome if I lost it. I’m assuming I can get a ride from you later?” he asked, looking at the crystal on Blitzø’s wrist before looking back at him.

“Usually I’m getting rides instead of givin’ ‘em, if ya catch my drift, but sure I can make an exception,” Blitzø said, shooting him a teasing grin and a wink. Stolas laughed, giving him a nod.

“Perhaps I’ll return the favor another time,” he said, giving him a coy smile. Blitzø looked at the way the mesh shirt hung off his shoulders and swallowed thickly. Damn, he hoped so. The door to Loona’s bedroom suddenly opened, and he saw the intense glare she was shooting them, teeth showing as she growled.

“That’s our cue!” Blitzø said, rubbing his crystal. “Night, Loonie! Don’t wait up!”

“Wasn’t plannin’ on it,” she said, unamused.

“Goodnight, Loona,” Stolas said, giving her a small bow of his head. “I hope you sleep well. Apologies for the disruption.” She let out a sigh.

“Yeah, whatever. Make sure he doesn’t get too fucked up. He gets needy as hell when he’s sick.”

“Noted,” Stolas said. “Although I have no idea where we’re going.” Loona gave him a once-over. Then her gaze flicked over to the now open portal.

“Wherever you’re going, I have a feeling you’re both getting fucked up,” she said. Stolas’ eyes widened, and Blitzø caught the twitch of amusement in Loona’s smile. He grabbed Stolas’ hand, giving it a squeeze.

“You know what they say! Best way to get over a bitch is to drink under a table!” He gave Loona a salute and pulled them through the portal.

“That’s not how it goes, dumbass!” Loona called after them.

They were standing outside a bar, the portal closing behind them. There was a smoky, damp quality to the air. The thick, wooden door was closed, but the clamor of voices and laughter could be heard from outside. The windows were foggy, casting a pink glow.

“One of my favorite bars in Lust,” Blitzø explained, walking over to open the door. He waved Stolas through, shooting him a smile. Stolas hesitated, and then he walked in, clasping his hands in front of him. Blitzø followed after him, sticking by his side.  

“Why this one?” Stolas asked, curious as he looked around.

“They have pool here,” Blitzø said, nodding towards the back of the bar. There were a couple of pool tables, various demons in the middle of their games. “I’m the tits at pool. I used to go to this bar in Greed, but then Mills and I trashed the place. Killed the bar tender, too. The idiot was shit at dodging, so reeeeeally that was on him but whatever.”

“What caused you to trash the place?” Stolas asked, looking at him in curiosity. "One of your assassin jobs?" he whispered that last part, cupping his hand around his beak and glancing around secretively. Blitzø grinned up at him.

“A job interview.”

“So you were interviewing this ‘Mills’?” he asked, straightening his posture as he furrowed his brow. “Was it some sort of test?”

“Kinda. But it was more like she was interviewing me. Guess I passed, since she’s still workin’ for me. A good thing, too. Millie's the toughest bitch I know. Now c’mon, lemme buy you a drink.” He led Stolas to the bar, gesturing at one of the stools. Stolas moved to sit, and Blitzø lifted his own stool upwards, hoisting himself onto the seat. They were at about the same level, Stolas tall-ass still looking down at him, but not as much as usual.

“What can I get you?” the bartender - a tall, toned succubus with spiky-as-fuck black hair - asked, towel over his shoulder and a bored look on his face.

“Two shots of the strongest, affordable-est shit ya got,” Blitzø said with a grin. 

“Wowwww how original,” the bartender mumbled, turning his back to grab a bottle off the shelf.

“It appears Loona wasn’t joking about making sure you don’t get ‘fucked up’,” Stolas observed. Blitzø waved him off.

“I have a high tolerance. I’m more worried about you keeping up." He remembered how drunk Stolas got at Verosika's party. It was sloppy bitch central. Stolas scoffed.

“I have partaken in my own share of strong alcohol,” he said, a challenging glint in his eyes. “I think I will manage.”

“Oh yeah? Wanna play a game, then?” Blitzø asked, putting his hand on the table and leaning towards him as he flashed a toothy grin.

“I do adore games,” Stolas said, leaning forwards as well, giving him a small, devilish smile. The bartender returned, placing two shot glasses in front of them and filling both with a clear liquid of something. Blitzø could smell it from here.

“We’re gonna need two more shot glasses filled with water,” Blitzø said. The bartender shrugged and set two more shot glasses in front of them, reaching under the bar top to grab a nozzle and filling them with water.

“Staring a tab?” the bartender asked, looking between the two of them. Stolas pulled out a card before Blitzø could even reach into his jacket pocket, handing it over to the bartender. The bartender glanced at the name and his eyes widened slightly. But he said nothing, pulling out a card reader and opening the tab before handing it back to Stolas. Then a group of demons waved the bartender over, and he left. Blitzø rolled his eyes.

“I was gonna pay," he grumbled.

“And I told you earlier today that I wanted to pay for our expenses,” Stolas reminded him stubbornly. “Now tell me the rules of this game.” He looked over at the row of four shot glasses, two filled with liquid that probably tasted like rubbing alcohol, and the other two filled with water.

Blitzø reached over and rearranged them so that there was one of each in front of him, and one of each in front of Stolas. Then he looked back at Stolas.

“One of us’ll take a shot, and the other will guess if it was water or alcohol. I’ll warn you, princey, this is some serious shit,” he said, gesturing to the shots. “Not the posh, weak-ass stuff you royals are used to.”

“Oh?” Stolas said, raising a brow. “Thank you for the warning, Blitzy," he said, tone dripping with sarcasm. "And what do I get if I manage to deceive you?”

“That confident, huh?” Blitzø said, grin spreading. “Whattaya want?” Stolas considered the question.

“A wish,” he declared. Blitzø’s eyes widened. Then he let out a laugh.

“That’s vague-as-fuck. So you want me to agree to anything?”

“It’ll be within reason,” Stolas assured him. “It’s not like I’ll propose something outrageous.”

Blitzø thought about the many things they did together in the bedroom. Stolas had made some crazy-ass suggestions. Fun ones, though. And if Stolas was looking for sexual favors…well shit, twist his arm. Twist some other things, too.

“And what if I don’t wanna do it?” Blitzø asked. Stolas pouted.

“But it’s my wish.”

“You gonna force me then?” Blitzø challenged. Damn. He almost forgot that this was past Stolas he was dealing with. Past Stolas never physically forced him to do anything, but he was definitely determined to get what he wanted. If Blitzø was gonna grant some kinda wish, he didn’t want any misunderstandings. He wanted to avoid that mine field as much as possible.

“No!” Stolas said, surprised. “I’ll just come up with something else.” Blitzø felt a twinge of relief. It also made him wonder – if he’d just said ‘no’ to Stolas’ arrangement the last time around, what would’ve happened? Would Stolas have actually made him give back the book? Or had he been bluffing? Guess he’d never know for sure. 

“Does that mean I get a wish if I win?” he asked, focusing back on the topic at hand rather than getting lost in those thorny ‘what ifs’. Stolas nodded.

“A wish from a Goetia is a pretty big deal, you know,” he pointed out smugly. Blitzø scoffed. Then he held out his hand.

“It’s a deal, then.” Stolas accepted it, a small, pleased smile on his face.

“I already know what I’m going to wish for."

“Oh yeah? Well ya gotta win first, princey.” He gave Stolas’ hand a firm shake and let go. “Now close your eyes while I choose which one I’m drinking.” Stolas obediently closed his eyes, but Blitzø caught him peeking with one of his eyes above his hairline. He let out a laugh, flicking Stolas’ knee with his tail. “I can see you cheating, bitch.” Stolas giggled, covering all four of his eyes with his hands.

“I suppose I’m not always good at following orders. Better?” Blitzø scoffed.

“I get it. You need all the help you can get. It’ll be hard to beat me,” he said, picking up the shot glass with the alcohol. He gave it a sniff. Holy fuck that was strong. But he could do this. He just needed to keep a straight face. “Okay, open your eyes.” Stolas opened his eyes, looking at the shot glass Blitzø was holding.

“It’s certainty impossible to tell visually,” Stolas confessed, looking between that shot glass and the one that remained on the bar top.

“Then ya better keep your eyes on my bangable face,” Blitzø suggested with a grin. “But you ain’t gettin' nothin’ outta me.”

“Go on then,” Stolas said with a smile, resting his elbow on the bar top and putting his chin in his hands, batting his eyes at him. The mesh top fell further off his shoulder. Blitzø got distracted for a moment, gaze fixated on soft, exposed feathers, but then he shook his head, looking down at his shot.

What would he wish for when he won? Would it be lame-as-fuck if he asked for a kiss? Would that be too much? Fuck it, he’d cross that bitch of a bridge when he got to it. He downed the shot.

“Satan’s red asshole!” he said, his throat burning immediately as he began to retch, clutching the bar top for support.

“Hmmmmm I have a sneaking suspicion that that wasn’t water you just consumed,” Stolas mused aloud, chin still in hand and looking unbothered as he watched Blitzø’s coughing fit. “Or are you trying to throw me off?” Blitzø could tell that he was teasing him, and he flipped him off.

“Make your guess already,” he managed to say, voice strained. Stolas grinned.

“I would be remiss if I didn’t guess that you drank the strongest affordable alcohol in this bar,” he said. “So that is my final guess.” Blitzø huffed, crossing his arms.

“Yeah. Whatever. You got it right,” he said, rolling his eyes. “But now you gotta pull a fast one on me if you want that wish, and clearly that’s impossible.”

“But some things only seem impossible, yes?” Stolas reminded him.

“Don’t use my own words against me, prick! Not when my throat feels like I poured acid down it!” Stolas laughed behind his hand.

“Of course. Apologies. Time to close those pretty eyes of yours,” he said. Blitzø felt his face warm, and he doubted it was from one shot of alcohol, strong-as-fuck or not. He closed his eyes.

He could hear the sound of pool cues hitting resin balls, rowdy conversations, and clinking glasses.

“Okay. Ready.” Blitzø opened his eyes and saw that Stolas was holding one of the shot glasses. Blitzø raised a brow, looking over at the shot glass that was still on the bar top. Shit. It really was hard to tell. Eh, it didn’t matter. No way was this bird gonna keep a straight face if he picked the one with alcohol in it. He could read Stolas like a book, which was saying something cuz he was pretty shit at reading. This was gonna be easy. 

“Make sure to swallow it all,” Blitzø reminded him, giving him a wink. Stolas scoffed. Then he lifted the glass to his beak, tilting his head back as he drank it down in one long, elegant sip. Blitzø watched the way his slender neck bobbed. Then he set the empty glass down, smiling as he looked at Blitzø expectantly. Blitzø furrowed his brow in confusion.

“What’s with your perplexed expression?” Stolas asked, an innocent tone in his voice. “That difficult to guess? Feel free to take a closer look if you'd like.” Blitzø let out an amused puff of air, tapping his fingertips against the bar top. Then he had an idea. He looped his tail around the leg of Stolas’ stool, pulling him closer. Their faces were inches apart now. Stolas looked at him with wide eyes, a blush rising in his face. Blitzø searched his expression. He definitely didn’t look like he’d taken a shot of that shitty alcohol. But now that they were this close, Blitzø could smell it. Or was that coming from him? He glanced down at Stolas’ beak, their breaths mingling, and then he finally leaned away, putting distance between them, although their knees were now slotted together, their stools only a few inches apart. And Stolas' expression looked slightly more dazed.

“There’s no fucking way you drank alcohol,” Blitzø decided. It was impossible. He didn’t care if Stolas had a high tolerance or not. No demon in their right mind could pull that shit off so convincingly. “You pussied out and drank water. I’m lockin’ it in.”

“Guess I shall have my wish after all,” Stolas said, reaching over to pick up his remaining shot glass and handing it over to Blitzø. Blitzø sniffed it, and then took a sip. It was water.

“The fuck?” He slammed down the empty shot glass in disbelief. Stolas tittered behind his hand. “Hold up, we’re doing this again. Double or nothing.”

“Fine by me,” Stolas said with a shrug. “Two wishes are better than one.” Blitzø shot him a glare, but there was no real bite it in, just his competitiveness taking over. He got the bartender’s attention.

“Another round of the same line-up,” he told him. “Two waters and two of whatever battery acid you gave us.” The succubus nodded, looking over at Stolas with interest before grabbing the bottle of alcohol. Blitzø squinted his eyes to read the yellow label – ‘Beez Nuts’.

“The Queen of Gluttony likes to fuck around and make strong, horrible-tasing alcohol with…creative names,” the succubus explained as he filled two shot glasses with it. Then he refilled the  remaining empty shot glass with water. “First time?” he asked, giving Stolas a toothy grin.

“Yes, but I’ve had worse,” Stolas confessed politely. The succubus laughed. Wait, was this fucker flexing his muscles?

“A royal like you?” His gaze flicked over at Blitzø before looking at Stolas, expression oozing with artificial charm as he set his elbows on the bar top and leaned towards him. “I can give you a taste of something better if you want –”

“Ha! In your wet dreams, cockbag. So how ‘bout you fuck off until we need more drinks, ‘kay?” Blitzø said, glaring daggers and he placed both hands on the bar top, daring the succu-bitch to try him. The bartender rolled his eyes, giving Stolas one more flirty look before leaving to check on the customers at the other end of the bar. Blitzø scoffed, crossing his arms as he moved to sit back down in his seat.

“My my, you certainly get feisty when you’re all competitive.” Stolas observed, all of his attention on Blitzø, the corners of his beak twitched up in amusement. “Would you like to go first again, or would you prefer for me to start us off this time?”

“I’ll go,” Blitzø decided. Stolas covered his eyes before he was even asked, still smiling in amusement. Blitzø took the opportunity to look at his beak, at his exposed shoulders, at his midriff. Unable to help himself, he slowly moved one of his knees so the inside of his thigh was touching Stolas’. He felt the warmth radiating off of him. He noticed Stolas’ shift his posture, but he said nothing, so Blitzø kept it there, feeling a small sense of satisfaction. His tail whished from side to side as he fought the temptation to wrap it around Stolas’ ankle.

“Still deciding on which one to drink?” Stolas asked. Shit. Right. Blitzø reached over to grab the shot glass with the alcohol in it, but then he hesitated. It really tasted like ass. Should he take the one with water instead and just pretend that he drank the alcohol? His hand hovered over the water shot, but then he shook his head and picked up the shot with the alcohol.

“Okay. You’re not gettin' shit from me this time,” Blitzø promised. Stolas uncovered his eyes, glancing down to see their thighs touching before looking back up at Blitzø.

“You know, this has also become quite the psychological experiment, when you think about it,” he observed. "Are you the type of demon to choose the water this time, knowing how horrible the alcohol tastes and wanting to avoid repeating the same awful experience? Or would you try the alcohol again to see if you can do better a second time?”

“Which one do you think I am?” Blitzø asked, curious. Stolas smiled sweetly.

“I have a guess, but I’d like for you to drink your shot first, Blitzy.” Blitzø steeled himself. No reaction. He needed to be a stone-faced bitch. He took a breath, and then downed the shot, setting it down on the bar top and swallowing. No coughing or retching this time around, but damn was his throat burning. Stolas’ expression was hard to read, his eyes wandering over Blitzø’s face as if he was trying to track every small shift in his expression. Blitzø grinned, ignoring the way his eyes were watering.

“Ha! Not so easy now, is it?” he said, running his finger around the ring of his shot glass. “Get ready for my wishes, big bird.”

“It’s funny,” Stolas said, tilting his head in curiosity as he continued to look at Blitzø. Blitzø furrowed his brow.

“What’s funny? How good of a fucking actor I am? Cuz that’s skill.” Stolas let out a laugh, shoulders shaking. He brought his knees together, trapping Blitzø’s leg between them.

“No, it’s funny how bad of a liar you are, given that you’re an assassin and all,” Stolas said, covering his smile with both hands as he tried to contain his hooty laughter. Blitzø’s jaw dropped.

“The fuck? I’m a great liar,” he said, jabbing his thumb into his own chest. “You’re just tryna stall cuz you have no clue what I drank this time!”

“Oh I knew before you even drank it,” Stolas said, waving him off. “Because you are undoubtedly the type to go for the ‘battery acid’ a second time.”

“Hey, I’m not that – what makes you so -” Blitzø began to argue. Stolas folded his hands in his lap.

“Am I wrong, then?” he asked, although from his expression it was clear this bitch knew he was right. Blitzø rolled his eyes.

“Fine. Ya got me again. But I kept a straight face this time ‘round.” Stolas laughed again, his eyes forming little crescent moons.

“You certainly didn’t,” he said. “Even now your eyes are watering.”

“Oh fuck off,” Blitzø said, but now he was laughing, too.

“A much better performance a second time, however,” Stolas acknowledged with a nod.

“Gee thanks,” Blitzø said dryly, a smile tugging at his lips. Then he closed his eyes. “Your turn, princey.”

“Ready,” Stolas said, and Blitzø opened his eyes, surprised.

“That was fast.”

“It was a simple decision,” Stolas offered with a shrug. Blitzø gave him a once-over.

Was Stolas the type to drink the shitty alcohol a second time? Or would he go for the easier option this time? And why did this answer feel so important?

Stolas gave him a sweet smile, and then he drank the shot, just as elegantly as he did before. He set the shot down, primly dabbing the corners of his beak with his talons. Blitzø narrowed his eyes.

“Take all the time you require,” Stolas said, unbothered as he met Blitzø’s gaze.

“Oh I could look at you all night, birdie,” Blitzø replied easily. Stolas’ white cheeks flushed red, and his gaze flicking away from Blitzø’s for only a moment before snapping back.

“What type of demon do you think I am, Blitzø?” Stolas asked quietly, interlacing his fingers as he rested them in his lap. Blitzø exhaled.

“Before I answer that, what about me made you so sure I’d go for the alcohol again? Cuz I’m a stubborn dumbass?”

“I wouldn’t phrase it that way,” Stolas said, and Blitzø scoffed. “I get the sense that when you set your sights on something, no matter how daunting it is, you’ll be hard-pressed to give up,” he answered honestly.

“Huh,” Blitzø said, glancing over at the demons playing pool, balls scattering and hitting each other as they slid across the table. “Nah, not quite. Depends, I guess.” When it came to his goals, he’d fight tooth and nail to make something of himself, to be the best, to not exist under any asshole’s thumb. When it came to relationships? He had a track record of giving up pretty easily. Forcing demons to respect him? That was one thing. Convincing someone to stay with him and deal with his bullshit? That was different. Harder.

“Depends on what?” Stolas asked, blinking at him in curiosity. Blitzø let out a bitter laugh.

“Whether I’m tryna get fucked up or not,” he joked, dodging the question with the acrobatic skill he was raised with. “Now I wanna make my guess.”

“Oh, right. Okay,” Stolas, waiting for him to continue.

“I think you drank the water,” Blitzø decided. “You already won since I couldn’t fool you either time, so there’s no point in drinking that dogshit again. Unless you really wanted two wishes instead of one, but you know there’s not much I can offer a magical prince like you. So even one wish won’t be worth all that much.”

“Ah,” Stolas said, looking somber all of a sudden. “I suppose I’ll have to be creative, then, as I decide on my second wish.”

“Wait…” Blitzø said, eyes widening, “you took the real shot again? Damn,” he said, leaning back, feeling both impressed and confused, “are you a masochist or something?” Thinking about it now, Stolas did enjoy those bear traps…

“Are you?” Stolas asked, raising a brow. Something about his tone cut through Blitzø, reaching the heart of him. He let out a hollow laugh.

“I had something to prove. You didn’t,” he pointed out.

“So I should simply do what’s easiest,” Stolas said, expression hard to decipher. “What…makes sense.”

“I mean…yeah,” Blitzø said. “I forced you to drink this shit once already –”

“You didn’t force me to do anything,” Stolas said, shaking his head as he looked down at his hands in his lap. “I decided that I wanted to drink it again.” He lifted his gaze to look a Blitzø, a desperation in them that made Blitzø’s eyes widen.

“All for a second wish? I can only do so much, princey –”

“Perhaps I merely wanted to get fucked up, too,” Stolas interrupted, frustration in his tone. He let out an airy, fake-as-fuck laugh. “Perhaps I am a masochist, and chose the more difficult option given that I am already taking the easy way out by avoiding my harpy of a wife and spending time with the demon who was hired to keep me company –”

“Hey,” Blitzø said gently, leaning forward to place his hands over Stolas’, looking at him in concern. He searched Stolas’ gaze, trying to overcome his own disorientation. This was supposed to be a game. Stolas had been happy just a minute ago. So how did it turn into…this? 

This was reminding Blitzø of their fights – on the full moon, at the pool, at Verosika’s stupid-ass party. It filled him with anxiety. Was Stolas pulling away from him? Did Stolas hate him now? Was Blitzø making him unhappy?

“Shit, I – I -” Blitzø began, trying to come up with something that would fix this. He could fix this. He could be better. He had to fix this –

“Another round?” the succubus asked, glancing down at the way Blitzø’s hands were covering Stolas’. Stolas gently pulled his hands away, giving the succubus a polite smile.

“Four more shots, but containing a…smoother alcohol this time,” he requested. The succubus nodded.

“I’ll set you up with the good stuff,” he said, giving Stolas a wink. “Royalty shouldn’t be expected to put up with the shit meant for back-alley chumps,” he added, shooting Blitzø a venomous glance before slipping away. Christ on a stick. Fuck that guy and his shitty porcupine haircut. Stolas let out an exhale, slumping his shoulders.

“I expected that you knew me well enough to know what decision I would make,” Stolas confessed quietly. Blitzø looked at him in surprise. “That was unfair. We’ve spent a majority of the day together, but it has been just that - one day. And perhaps…perhaps I was hoping that you would see some kind of fighter in me. But you’re right. I’m no fighter. I mean,” Stolas let out a hollow laugh, “if I was I’d be enduring Stella’s slew of insults now instead of hoping she’d get over it by the time I return -”

“That's not what I was getting at,” Blitzø said, shaking his head. “Seriously Stol-” he cut himself off, and Stolas looked at him in interest. He cleared his throat, tail swishing around nervously. “You shouldn’t have to put up with any bullshit. Not hers. Not mine. Not anyone’s. That prick with the fuck-ass haircut had a point. You shouldn’t be expected to drink the shit made for imps like me. You deserve better.That's what I was tryna say.” Stolas looked at him for a long moment, and then he shook his head, giving him a dry smile.

“He does have quite a horrendous haircut, doesn’t he,” he offered. Blitzø looked at him in surprise, and then he let out a laugh, Stolas’ smile growing a fraction wider, more genuine.

“It’s a fucking disaster,” Blitzø doubled down, “Christ on a stick, his hair needs to pick a direction to go in!” Stolas hid his laugh behind his hand. Blitzø paused, expression softening. “For the record, I’m impressed that you drank two shots of that ass alcohol without flinching. Seriously.”

“For the record, I think a wish from you is quite valuable,” Stolas confessed, just as sincerely. “I mean, look at all that you’ve done for me today.”

“This's nothing,” Blitzø said, waving him off. Stolas shook his head.

“Not to me,” he said firmly. “I…I needed this. More than you know.”

“Like I told you back at the plant shop, I’d still like to know more,” he offered. Stolas smiled. Then the bartender appeared, setting down four new shot glasses and filling them with a honey-colored liquid. Stolas slid two of the shots closer to Blitzø.

“This quality of alcohol may be wasted on demons like him,” the bartender warned, glancing over at Blitzø before smiling politely at Stolas. “You know, those with less refined palates.”

“Hm. I do not recall asking for your opinion, just for your liquor,” Stolas pointed out, crossing his arms and straightening his posture. “But if this establishment exchanges opinions as well as alcohol, then may I suggest that you take the money you make tonight to a competent barber?” Blitzø snorted, caught off guard. He watched with glee as the bartender flushed crimson.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” the succubus said, “and leave you alone.” Stolas nodded.

“That may be for the best,” he agreed. The bartender slinked away, patting down his hair self-consciously.

“I think that’s the sexiest thing you’ve done all day,” Blitzø blurted out. Stolas blushed, turning to look at him.

“I-is that so? It became obvious that he was being an ‘asshole for no reason’, so I elected to suspend any niceties. Was that appropriate?”

“Ohhhh yeah,” Blitzø said with a laugh. “That was perfect.” He picked up two of the four shot glasses, holding one out to Stolas. “So perfect that I think it deserves a fuckin’ cheers.” Stolas took the shot glass, bouncing excitedly in his seat.

“Ooo! I’ve never done a ‘cheers’ before!”

“Seriously?” Blitzø asked, surprised. “Hey, I’m honored to be your first,” he said, clinking his glass against Stolas’.

“And my second?” Stolas asked, glancing at the remaining two shot glasses on the bar top before looking back at him. Exposed shoulders. Tight-fitting tank top. Ruby eyes. Pretty pretty pretty.

“Heh, yeah, why the fuck not? And your second,” he agreed, feeling his own face warm. Stolas gave him an enthusiastic nod.

“Cheers!” 

“Pfft. Cheers, big bird,” Blitzø said, and together they downed their shots. It went down a helluva lot easier than Beelzebub's shit juice. He picked up the remaining two shots, again handing one over to Stolas. “Let’s finish this round and then I can teach ya some pool. Sound good?” Stolas clapped his hands before accepting the shot.

“Yes! That sounds like fun!” Together they threw the shots back like pros.

Blitzø was definitely feeling the effects of four strong shots, but this giddy, buzzing, intoxicating feeling –

He knew that was all Stolas' doing.

And there was an underlying relief, too. Things got dicey for a sec there, but it wasn’t the end of the world. They were okay. They were perfect. Everything was still perfect.

And next they were gonna use some long sticks to smash some balls into some holes, which was definitely Blitzø's idea of a good-ass night.

Chapter Text

“Now show me what I taught ya, princey,” Blitzø said, crossing his arms and leaning his hip against the pool table, giving Stolas a once–over and a grin. Stolas ran a nervous hand up and down the pool cue he was holding, the innocent bird having no clue what such a simple, suggestive gesture was doing to Blitzø.

“O–okay!” Stolas said. He grabbed the blue chalk that they’d left on the outer rim of the pool table and placed it on the tip of the pool cue. Then he twisted his cue into the chalk, movements graceful and precise. Blitzø hurried around the table to sweep the balls into a group, placing them inside the triangular rack. Once they were in position he removed the rack and set it aside. He looked at Stolas from where he was standing at the opposite end of the table and gave him a wink.

“Ready when you are." Stolas’ cheeks were pink, and he let out an adorable titter as he used his pool cue to keep him balanced on his feet. Blitzø let out a laugh too, even though there was nothing particularly funny. Or, really, even the stupidest shit felt funny. They’d had so many fucking shots.

He’d been impressed by Stolas’ tolerance. At Verosika’s party he seemed shwasted. Cuz of that he figured Stolas’ fancy ass was a total lightweight, but clearly that wasn’t the case. Tonight Stolas was easily outdrinking him.

So at Verosika’s bullshit party, how much had that bitch already had before Blitzø got there? He frowned at the memory. Was letting Stolas dance with that random dickhead the right move? He rolled his eyes. Why’d he listen to fucking Verosika of all demons? He shook the memory away. It didn’t matter, cuz this time around Stolas would never end up at that shit party. He watched as Stolas set the pool cue on the table, sticking out his tongue as he concentrated, bending over to line up his shot.

It was then that Blitzø noticed a hellhound sitting at a table behind Stolas. He was sneaking a peek at his bent–over bird. Oh fuck that. Blitzø moved to join Stolas, climbing up on the outer rim of the pool table. He placed his hands on Stolas’ hips, adjusting them.

“There ya go, big bird,” Blitzø said, voice low in his ear. “That feels better, yeah?”

“Ooh, um, y–yes,” Stolas said. “Th-thank you, Blitzy.” His gaze flicked over to look at Blitzø before directing his attention back on the white ball in front of him, his blush deepening.

Blitzø removed his hands from Stolas’ hips, looking back at the hellhound and flipping him off. The hellhound rolled his eyes, but turned his attention away as he sipped his drink. Blitzø grinned, and then turned back 'round to watch Stolas.

“Am I aiming correctly?” Stolas asked. “I think I may need some, um, additional assistance.” Blitzø looked at Stolas’ hand placements on the pool cue. It was actually pretty damn good. He was a quick learner. But Blitzø would never say no to the opportunity to touch his bird some more. He reached around Stolas, laying one hand on Stolas’ front arm, which was forming the bridge, and the other on his back. He made a small, completely unnecessary adjustment.

“Like that,” Blitzø said, still holding him. “Just make sure your grip is relaxed. That backhand especially needs to be loose.” He flicked Stolas’ elbow with his tail. “You’re too tense.” He felt Stolas relax under him, and boy did that do things to him. He swallowed thickly.

“You truly are good at aiming,” Stolas observed, glancing at Blitzø once more and shooting him a flirty smile before looking at the white cue ball. “And I do feel quite pleased.” Blitzø felt his face warm. Damn. This bird really had a knack for remembering every corny thing he said today. Then he noticed something.

“You’re left–handed,” Blitzø said dumbly. Stolas was holding the cue with his left–hand.

“Hm, yes, although on occasion I have been known to switch."

“A switch, eh?” Blitzø said with a shit–eating grin.

“Depends on what I’m doing,” Stolas explained with a shrug, clearly unaware of the innuendo he just made.

“And who you’re doing, I bet,” Blitzø suggested. Stolas looked at him in confusion. Then his whole face flushed.

“W–what about you?” Stolas managed to ask, looking stubbornly at the cue ball. “Which is your, erm, dominant hand?”

“Oh everything 'bout me is dominant, princey,” Blitzø joked, giving his hip a playful pinch. Stolas made some sort of strangled, hooty noise. “And by that I mean I use both hands pretty much the same amount. ~I’m not sure where your mind wandered~.” He did his best Stolas impression when he said that last part. Cuz if Stolas could keep making these callbacks to things they said earlier today, so could he.

“Ha ha,” Stolas said dryly, although a smile tugged at his beak. “Touché.” Then he focused on his shot, taking a deep breath before exhaling.

“Any prophecies coming to ya? Like if you’ll pocket any balls on this hit?” Blitzø asked. He noticed that Stolas’ stance was a bit off now, so he placed a gentle hand on his stomach and his lower back, gently lifting him up to straighten his posture. He felt Stolas tremble slightly under his touch, and his eyes widened in surprise. It was then that he realized how casually he did that.

He thought back to Stolas scooping him up when they ditched those government agents. When Stolas fell into his lap at Verosika’s party. When they danced together on the fire escape. It reminded him of those moments, when they just…fit together so easily. It wasn’t always like that, but when it was -?

Stolas said they probably looked ridiculous on that fire escape. Right now – standing on the pool table as he tried to get this lanky–ass bird in the right position – wasn’t all that different. But with Stolas, he didn’t think it was ridiculous at all. He thought it made a lotta fucking sense.

But this was the Stolas who hadn’t done all those things with him. He cleared his throat and let go of Stolas, giving him space as he stepped to the corner of the outer rim, letting Stolas take his shot.

“The red 3-ball,” Stolas said. Blitzø looked at him in confusion for a second, and then remembered his question. He raised a brow.

“A gut feeling? Or did ya just get some vision and I didn’t notice?” he teased. Stolas let out a laugh. Then his expression shifted into something more thoughtful.

“A gut feeling, I suppose. Something is just pulling me to it…like gravity.” He had a spacey look in his eyes, and then he shook his head.

The felt covering the pool table was a deep purple, the outer rim a dark, sleek wood. And Stolas looked way too attractive bending over it, a concentrated look now on his face. Blitzø watched as Stolas moved his arm, all fluidity and elegance. The pool cue made a satisfying noise as it hit the cue ball, the ball quickly rolling across the table, scattering the colored balls. Blitzø watched them scatter, and then his jaw dropped as he watched the black 8-ball fall into the middle right pocket.

“Hm,” Stolas said, straightening up. His gaze roamed over the scattered balls as he leaned against his pool cue, eyes landing on the 3-ball. “I suppose that wasn’t a prophecy after all.”

“Fuck the prophecy!” Blitzø said, and Stolas turned to face him, looking surprised. “You just pocketed the 8-ball on the break!”

“Is that…bad?” Stolas asked, hesitant. Blitzø let out an amused puff of air, putting a hand on his hip.

“Depends on what rules you’re working with, but whenever I play, doing that is an automatic win,” he explained, nodding at the middle right pocket. “Color me impressed, princey.”

“Amazing!” Stolas said, clapping his hands. “My first win!” Blitzø reached to grab the pool cue before it fell to the ground. “Oops!” Stolas said. Blitzø laughed.

“Ya know, another rule I go by is that the winner buys the next round of shots,” Blitzø said with a smile. “Makes the loss sting less,” he explained as if he was sharing a secret. Stolas giggled, giving Blitzø a small bow of his head.

“Can we do another cheers?” he asked, and Blitzø laughed again, expression fond.

“Fuck yeah we can.” Stolas smiled widely.

“I’ll be right back!” he said, and headed to the bar, a bounce in his step. Blitzø’s gaze lingered on him for a long moment. Then he scoffed to himself, climbing off the pool table, pool cue still in hand. Of course Stolas sunk the 8-ball on a break on his very first try. Blitzø was starting to wonder if he was getting hustled.

Maybe he should get a ‘lil practice in while he was waiting for Stolas. He stuck his tongue out, bending over as he focused on his shot. He wiggled his hips as he got into position, lining his pool cue up. He zeroed in on the solid–colored, red ‘3’ ball, sitting all nice and pretty next to that back left corner pocket, calling his name and just begging to be tapped.

He slowly pulled his elbow back, ready to strike, and then he felt something brush across his lower back.

“Tryna throw me off, big bird?” Blitzø teased, still focused on the 3-ball. He felt a weight press against his back, and he stiffened. And not the good kinda stiff. The ‘something feels off’ kinda stiff.

“Not a bird, and not tryna throw ya off, but I am tryna get ya off, if you catch my drift,” a voice whispered in his ear. Blitzø’s eyes widened, recognizing that voice. He jerked his elbow back, ramming his pool cue into flesh before dropping it on the table. Then he whirled around to see Chaz clutching his ribs with one hand, caging Blitzø in with his other hand, still leaning over him with that cheesy–ass grin. Blitzø felt the pool table against his back. Dammit. This fucking loser.

“That the best you got?” Blitzø asked dryly, shooting him his most unimpressed look as he crossed his arms. Seriously, what did M&M both see in this douchenozzle? Guess he wasn’t one to talk, since he slept with the fucker, too. But hey, can’t a guy be curious about his employee’s kinks?

“Damn, you feisty,” Chaz said, giving him a once–over, not deterred even though anyone with a brain cell would take the fucking hint. Stolas had called Blitzø feisty earlier, and it sounded a lot sexier coming from his bird than this idiot. Hearing Chaz call him ‘feisty’ made him want to shoot something. He looked at Chaz’s stupid ass smile. Or someone. His hand hovered over his holster. Welp. Guess this would be the second bar he was kicked out of. He should get some kinda punch card – he could probably get banned from a bar in each ring if he put his mind to it.

“Fuck off, Chaz,” Blitzø finally said, feeling generous enough to give him a warning. Chaz’s blue, glowing eyes lit up with interest. Fuuuuuck. He was too tipsy for this.

“Know my name, huh?” Chaz said, whishing his fishy tail from side–to–side. “Hey, baby, I don’t mind a lil’ playin’ hard to get. It can be a real turn–on.” He leaned in. “And you should see what I got packin’ when I’m turned on.”

“Doesn’t mean shit if ya don’t know how to use it,” Blitzø shot back. He knew that from experience with this dickwad. One of the worst lays of his life. 

“Only one way to find out,” Chaz said, leaning in even further, alcohol wafting from his breath. Blitzø grimaced, pushing him away.

“Get lost, cockrag,” Blitzø said. “Not interested.”

“C’monnnnnn don’t be like that. You taken or somethin’?” Chaz asked, putting both hands on the pool table now, refusing to let Blitzø leave. He chuckled. “Someone about-a kick my ass for chattin' up a sexy thing like you?”

“I’m taken,” Blitzø said firmly, tilting his chin up to look at him in defiance. Chaz only grinned further.

“I don’t mind a challenge,” he said, putting his hand on Blitzø’s hip. Christ on a stick. Blitzø reached for his gun. Would killing the guy fuck up the timeline too much? He could probably get away with some maiming –

“Ahem,” Stolas said, and Blitzø quickly looked over to see Stolas standing to the side, watching the two of them with an expression that was hard to read. But Blitzø knew it wasn’t good. Shit. “I thought that this was my day,” Stolas continued, setting two shots on the outer rim of the pool table. “But I would hate to intrude.” Blitzø watched as Stolas looked down at the two shots he just set down. Then the bird picked them up, downing both of them before slamming the empty glasses back down. “So perhaps I should leave and let you two have fun together!” His bottom lip trembled and he hurried away, hugging his arms to his chest.

“Fuck! Wait!” Blitzø called out.

“Looks like feathers just gave you a pass,” Chaz reasoned, shooting Blitzø a wink. “So if you’re down to cloOown…” Blitzø kneed him where it hurts, holding nothing back, fed up with his bullshit. Chaz doubled over, clutching his crotch with both hands. Blitzø picked up the pool cue, prodding Chaz in the forehead so he fell over. It left a blue mark on his forehead.

“I’ll kick your ass if you don’t fuck off already,” Blitzø said, standing over him. He should’ve done that at the start. He dropped the pool cue on the table. “Learn to take a hint, dickhead.” He looked around the bar, but Stolas was nowhere in sight.

“Damn, this usually works,” Chaz managed to say through gritted teeth, tears of pain in the corners of his eyes. Blitzø scoffed, giving him a kick to the shin for good measure before going to find his bird.

“The tall cutie headed for the bathroom,” a succubus sitting at the bar said, swirling her straw in her drink. Her pale-yellow hair was in a high ponytail. She was wearing a magenta romper.

“Uh, thanks,” Blitzø said, wondering why this random bitch was helping him. And what right did this whore have calling his bird ‘cutie’?

“No, thank you for the entertainment,” she said, flashing him a toothy grin. Another succubus joined her side. She had a cloudy afro and was wearing a black dress with fishnet stockings. She wound her arm around the other succubus’ waist. They looked like they were definitely an item.

“I heard that sharks have two dicks,” the succubus who just joined said to Blitzø. “Hope you nailed both of 'em. That guy’s a fucking creep.” Blitzø let out a laugh, giving her a nod.

“The fucker’s not even good in bed!” he called out as he hurried towards the single–stall bathroom.

“Rude!” Chaz called out. Blitzø flipped him off, turning the corner and going down the narrow hallway until he reached the bathroom. He tried opening the door, but it was locked. He sighed, leaning his forehead against the door, pressing his palms against it.

“C’mon, princey,” Blitzø said. “Lemme in.”

“OooOooh don’t let me get in the middle of your good time!” Stolas said, pettiness absolutely dripping from his voice. Blitzø had to bite back his smile. He should be taking this more seriously, but he couldn’t help but find this cute. Could Stolas be jealous? And if he was, the fact that Stolas thought that fuckin’ Chaz was a threat was comical. Then his smile fell, his expression more serious as he looked at the grain of wood winding up the door.

Did Stolas really care that much? Could Stolas have feelings for him? After only a day? Him? How could anyone have feelings for Blitzø after just a day of hanging out? He lightly dragged his fingertips down the door, claws catching wood.

“That wasn’t a good time,” Blitzø promised him. “That was some cringe bullshit. What we’ve been doing – that’s my idea of a good time. A really good time.” He cringed. He poured more honesty into his voice than he planned when he said that last part. He waited, Stolas offering no response.

Anxiety twisted in his gut, mingling with the alcohol. He lightly kicked the door with his boot, still leaning against it.

“What if I say please –?” the door suddenly opened and Blitzø fell forward. He waved his arms, finding his balance at the last second. Once he got his bearings, he looked up to see Stolas walk over to sit on the covered toilet seat, putting his head in his hands.

The bathroom was small, just a toilet, a sink, and a hand dryer, but there was still enough space for two demons. The walls were covered in colorful graffiti. Colorful as in the paint used and the words Blitzø could decipher. He tilted his head, reading the words ‘FAT NUGGETS’ in pink spray paint. Fucking weirdos and their random–ass tags.

He closed the door behind him, locking it for good measure in case that dumbass was thinking about making an appearance. Then he drew closer to Stolas, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” Blitzø said with a wince. Stolas whipped his head up to look at him, and Blitzø’s eyes widened when he saw that his mascara was running.

“Why are you sorry?” Stolas asked. “I’m acting completely crazy right now!” he said in a rush, gesturing wildly with his hands.

“Woooaaah there,” Blitzø said, taking another small step closer. He was standing in front of Stolas now. “Explain that to me a lil’ more, cuz ya lost me.” Stolas sighed, hunching forward as he pressed his palms against his forehead, hiding his face. Blitzø leaned sideways so he could get a look at his expression, but Stolas turned away.

“I’m just…” Stolas began to explain. “I keep getting confused,” he confessed. Blitzø blinked at him.

“Confused about what, exactly?” He paused. Then he felt a small prick of anxiety, like an itch that he needed to be scratched. “Seriously, princey, what you saw back there was going nowhere. I was not interested –”

“But why does it matter?” Stolas asked, pulling his hands away to look at the bathroom tiles. It seemed like he was asking himself that more than Blitzø. “That’s what I mean. Why do I feel –? I have no right to – but I can’t help but –” He covered his face fully with his hands, letting out a muffled groan. Blitzø set his hands on Stolas’ knees, the two of them at about eye–level, and Stolas looked at him in surprise, the bottom of his ruby eyes smudged with black. Even like this he looked so beautiful. Only Stolas could make acting like a messy drunk look so good.

“Talk to me,” Blitzø urged, tone gentle. Because that’s what he fucked up in the past. Stolas had tried to communicate, but Blitzø didn’t wanna listen. He didn’t believe him. He didn’t want to believe him, cuz that meant he’d have to untangle the mess that was his feelings. Ugh. Instead, he wanted to keep things simple, but that only fucked things up more.

Now he knew better. Stolas looked at him for a long moment, searching his gaze as if he was waiting to see some signal, some clue that Blitzø didn’t actually want the truth. But Blitzø looked back stubbornly, expression open and sincere, leaving nothing that could be questioned. He fought how uncomfortable it made him, ignoring the alarm bells that warned him about leaving himself vulnerable. He just hoped it’d pay off. And he wanted to trust that Stolas wouldn’t exploit his vulnerability. Even if this version of Stolas barely knew him. Because this was still Stolas, at the end of the day.

“I…” Stolas began again. He sighed, moving his hands away from his face to hug himself, averting his gaze. “I know that you’re meant to be my clown for the day. That you were hired by my father to be here. I keep trying to remind myself of that simple truth. And yet…” he paused, gaze flicking over to look at Blitzø once more. “Sometimes…there are these moments when it feels like…”

“Feels like what?” Blitzø asked quietly. Stolas glanced down, and Blitzø realized that he was rubbing gentle circles into Stolas’ knees with his thumbs. He stopped, but didn’t pull his hands away. Stolas looked back up at him.

“It feels like you’re my l–lover for the day,” he confessed, voice barely above a whisper, downy cheeks flushed pink from the alcohol. Or from something more. Blitzø watched as he shook his head. “I know that I’m acting entirely delusional –” He moved to press his hands against his face again, but Blitzø stopped him, holding Stolas’ hands in his own. Stolas looked at him in surprise.

“I –” Blitzø began, distracted by their close proximity, by the buzz of alcohol in his veins, by the way Stolas said ‘lover’ so sweetly, with an adorable awkwardness that was just so him. “You’re…I mean…” he tried again, pushing forward despite second guessing everything he wanted to say. “What if I was?” he finally blurted out. Stolas’ brow furrowed in confusion.

Blitzø used his thumb to smooth the furrow away, resting his hand on Stolas’ cheek, his other hand still holding one of Stolas’. “What if I was?” he said softly this time, and Stolas’ eyes widened in understanding. “What would you wanna do?” Stolas looked at him for a long moment, beak parted in surprise.

Blitzø’s eyes roamed over his expression, happy to wait when this was the view.

Stolas reached his other hand out towards him, but then hesitated, hand hovering in the space between them uncertainly. Then he pressed it gently against Blitzø’s chest, resting it there.

“I would want a divorce,” he finally said, words coming out in a rush. Blitzø blinked at him in surprise.

“From me?”

“No!” Stolas said, a surprised laugh escaping him, “from Stella." Blitzø mentally smacked his forehead. Of course that’s what he meant. Blitzø was getting carried away, hearing wedding bells like a total whipped bitch. “I have wanted that for a while, but recently…even more so.”

“How long’s a while?” Blitzø asked, curious. Stolas let out a humorless laugh.

“Since I found out that I was arranged to be married to her,” he confessed. He paused, seeming to remember something. “Which was also the day we pretended to be pirates.” Blitzø’s eyes widened.

“Uhhh yeaaaah that sounds fucked. You were a kid.”

“It’s common among royals,” Stolas explained, slipping his hand from Blitzø’s as he went back to hugging himself. “It was my duty to produce an heir, so…” he trailed off, gaze sliding away from Blitzø’s once again.

Blitzø could feel him starting to throw up those walls, something Stolas had a habit of doing whenever they talked too much about his marriage. Maybe he was being a selfish asshole, but Blitzø didn’t wanna let that happen this time.

“How recent?” Blitzø found himself asking, liquid courage buzzing in his veins. Stolas looked at him again. Blitzø reveled in the small victory of recapturing his attention, drunk on Stolas’ gaze more than the shit–ton of alcohol in his system. The bird’s expression was confused at first, and then he seemed to realize that Blitzø was referring to what he said before.

“Very,” Stolas said, answer vague but expression clear–as–crystal, gaze flicking to Blitzø’s lips before looking back up at his eyes.

“So let’s say you already divorced that bitch,” Blitzø said, voice low as he leaned in closer. “What comes after that?” Stolas looked like he was about to respond, but then he hesitated.

“I believe part of that decision is yours,” he said quietly, searching Blitzø’s gaze, leaning in himself, gaze switching between Blitzø’s eyes and his lips as if he couldn’t decide which to look at. Something swooped in Blitzø’s stomach, an anticipation and a nervousness that made time slow down, made his senses heighten, but also made him feel like the world was falling away, leaving only the two of them in a universe of their own.

“I’m pretty shit with words,” Blitzø admitted, resting his hand on Stolas’ thigh, something sparking and igniting between them, a flame that was always there, but finally had oxygen to breathe. “So what if I showed ya?” Stolas swallowed thickly, and he gave Blitzø a slight, almost imperceptible nod of his head.

“Please do,” Stolas said, a desperation in his voice as he slid his hands up Blitzø’s chest to rest on his shoulders. Not wanting to waste another second, feeling dazed and desperate as a fire roared within him, Blitzø quickly moved to kiss Stolas’ neck.

He could hear Stolas’ breathless sigh as he scraped his teeth across the bird’s pulse, licking and sucking into the soft flesh of his neck, parting feathers with his tongue. As he worked, his hand wandered from Stolas’ cheek, sliding down to grab a fistful of his mesh shirt.

“Fuck yes,” Stolas said with a shudder, angling his neck to give Blitzø better access. That simple gesture ignited something in Blitzø. He put his knee up on the covered toilet seat, then grabbed both of Stolas’ perfect thighs and slid the bird towards him until his knee was pressed in between them. “Ah,” Stolas whimpered, feathers around his neck puffing out in response. Blitzø smiled against his neck, still gripping Stolas’ thighs as he continued his ministrations, kissing and nipping just the way he knew his bird liked. “Blitzy I – hah – I don’t know what to – I’ve never felt this way –” he began, hips moving as he began to slowly grind against Blitzø’s knee.

“You’re doing great, birdie,” Blitzø whispered in his ear, Stolas panting as he gripped Blitzø’s shoulders to stabilize himself, still moving against his knee. Blitzø applied more pressure and Stolas let out a moan, talons digging to Blitzø’s shoulders as he arched his back. “See? Your body knows exactly what it wants. But I’d like to hear some specifics from that pretty mouth of yours.”

“S–specifics?” Stolas managed to ask. Blitzø pulled away from Stolas’ neck to look at him, giving him a wicked smile.

“Yeah, what else should I ‘show’ ya? A good boss is always open to feedback.” His tail whished from side to side as he gave Stolas a once–over. Then he wrapped his tail around Stolas’ ankle, lifting his long–ass leg and placing it over his shoulder.

He took that opportunity to climb on top of the toilet seat fully, pressing his knee even further against the apex of Stolas’ thighs. “How’s this, for example?” he asked, voice low and sultry. Sure, he was open to suggestions, but he was also impatient–as–fuck and wanted to make his bird feel good as soon as possible.

“M–more of that,” Stolas said breathlessly, hands still on Blitzø’s shoulders and eyelids fluttering in response to this new angle.

“I got you, baby,” Blitzø said, going back to kissing his neck, the other side this time. “Just keep telling me what you want.” He slid his hand up Stolas’ tank top, threading his claws through the soft feathers on his chest.

“I want – ngh –” Stolas began, grinding against Blitzø’s thigh, talons digging into his shoulders, but Blitzø could tell he was being careful not to break skin. “I think I – I mean, if we could –“ Stolas paused, sounding frustrated. “I truly don’t know w–what to ask for,” he confessed, a self–conscious note to his voice. Blitzø could feel him begin to tense up, so he held onto the leg currently over his shoulder, running his hand up and down in a soothing gesture.

“That’s okay,” Blitzø said firmly, sincerely. During their first time – their last first time? – now that was fucking confusing – Stolas had all sorts of crazy dirty talk locked and loaded. Blitzø had been expecting that this time 'round. He even found himself missing it, cringe and all. But this was good, too. Surprising, sure, but really fucking good.

Blitzø had thought he had everything figured out, being from the future and all. He thought that that gave him an edge. But he was beginning to realize that there was a shit–ton he didn’t know. There was a lot about Stolas he didn’t know. But damn was he eager to learn.

“Want me to take you right here?” Blitzø suggested, applying varying pressure with his knee as he tracked Stolas’ expression, making sure Stolas wanted this as much as he did. “Cuz that’s what’s running through this ‘bangable’ head.” Stolas didn’t even laugh at that, looking too blissed out as he resumed grinding against Blitzø’s thigh, expression twisted in pleasure. “Again and again until you forget your own name, until all you’re doing is calling out mine –”

“Y–yes,” Stolas agreed as he rocked against him, chasing his own high. Blitzø was more than happy to help him along.

He nipped at Stolas’ neck, swiping his tongue over it. He realized that his own hands were shaking. He’d wanted this for so long. He’d wondered if he’d ever be able to do shit like this with Stolas again. And after spending all day tryna hold himself back, it’s like all the desires he’d been strangling into submission, pushing down with both hands, were now roaring to the surface all at once. He stopped kissing Stolas’ neck, breathing him in instead as he tried to calm down.

“You smell nice,” he blurted out, finally noticing the floral scent. Stolas’ hands moved from Blitzø’s shoulders to rest on his waist, grazing his talons up and down absentmindedly, gently, slipping under his turtleneck. Blitzø bit back his purr.

“O–oleander,” Stolas managed to say. Something about that sounded familiar. Blitzø rested his forehead against Stolas’ shoulder, trying to think. Then he remembered.

“Isn't that a poison?” he asked. He grinned, and then gave Stolas’ neck a playful bite that had the bird shivering. “Tryna poison me, princey?” Stolas let out a laugh, body relaxing against his.

“It’s only poison if the plant is consumed,” he explained, still pressed against Blitzø’s knee. “This is a perfume, so you’re perfectly safe, Blitzy. I’d never dream of – hah – poisoning you.” Blitzø kissed Stolas’ neck, long and lingering, and then pulled away to look at him. Their faces were only an inch apart. Stolas’ cheeks were flushed red, eyes lidded and expression dazed. His pupils were trained right on Blitzø’s face, as if he was the only thing worth looking at.

Wait.

“There they are,” Blitzø whispered, borderline reverent, drinking in the sight of him. He moved his arms to wrap around Stolas’ neck. He was supposed to be gettin' to the part where Stolas was calling out his name, begging for more, but he was finding it impossible to tear his gaze away.

“There what is?” Stolas asked, tilting his head in curiosity.

“Your pupils,” Blitzø answered, lazily running his fingers through the feathers on the back of Stolas’ neck.

“Oh,” Stolas said, face flushing further.

“You’re a lot more expressive like this, birdie." He’d missed Stolas’ pupils. He’d missed them getting to be like this. He’d missed a lot of things. He hadn’t realized how much it ached. How much he wanted. How far gone he was.

“You know…you never call me by my name,” Stolas pointed out, voice quiet. “Not once.” Blitzø’s eyes widened. He didn’t expect that Stolas would be paying attention to something like that. But he was right.

“Do you, uh, not like ‘princey’?” Blitzø asked, stumbling over his words. “I thought we had a whole ‘nickname’ thing goin’…” In reality, Blitzø wasn’t sure if he was ready to use Stolas’ name yet. He felt like he needed to earn it.

“I liked it at first, but…” Stolas trailed off, a slight furrow to his brow. His hands were still on either side of Blitzø’s waist, leg still hooked over Blitzø’s shoulder. From an outsider’s point–of–view, this was a wild convo to be having while they were positioned like this in a shitty bar bathroom. “But maybe, if even for one night, I would prefer not to be a prince.” Blitzø winced.

“Careful what you wish for,” his impulsive ass couldn’t help but say, a bittersweetness in his tone that had Stolas looking at him in confusion. Before Stolas could ask him any probing questions, Blitzø placed his hand between Stolas’ thighs, rubbing his fingers up and down in slow, practiced strokes. “But that can be arranged.”

“Ah!” Stolas moaned out, pressing his face into Blitzø’s shoulder. Blitzø listened to Stolas’ muffled whimpers and gasps, tracked which spots made him shake and press into his hand. He could feel himself getting hard, imagination running wild. He pictured Stolas bent over the pool table, hands splayed out against purple felt. He thought about moving Stolas’ tail to the side, spreading his legs as Stolas begged, begged for him –

“That wasn’t my wish – hah – f–for the record,” Stolas clarified, voice still muffled as he trembled against him. Blitzø grabbed Stolas’ leg to keep it in place over his shoulder, continuing to rub that sensitive spot. This bird had always been so damn flexible.

“Oh yeah? Then what’s your first wish, prin–big bird?” Blitzø asked, voice low. He bit back his own moan, starting to lose himself. “I could grant a few things right now.” He continued his ministrations with two fingers, remembering just the pace and movements Stolas liked, and Stolas gasped, pressing his face even further into Blitzø’s shoulder, talons gripping Blitzø’s waist.

Fuck. Blitzø couldn’t get enough of this. But there was a part of his stupid, drunken mind that was second–guessing himself. The roof of an observatory was a lot different than a random bar bathroom. That’s why he hadn’t kissed Stolas properly yet. Because, like with saying Stolas’ name, Blitzø needed to earn that, too.

Sex was simple. Intimacy was complicated.

But as he listened to Stolas gasp and whine in his ear, as he felt a dampness grow on his fingers, as he rubbed slow circles into Stolas’ leg with his thumb, being right there with him in his pleasure, helping him through it, and as one of Stolas’ hands slid down to play with Blitzø’s belt, talons grazing across his skull pendant – Blitzø wondered if this kinda sex was simple at all.

Asking Stolas to make this a wish – it was easier. It was something to hide behind, the chance to take cover after throwing the grenade full of his very real, very scary feelings.  

At the same time, a big part of him didn’t want any more misunderstandings between them. Wasn’t a wish the same kinda bullshittery as a contract? Wasn’t lying about being his clown for the day? He felt a sick feeling rise in his throat. For one night, Stolas didn’t wanna be a prince. Did he only want one night? Was Blitzø just his sexual liberation, and then he’d toss him away? No. Today meant something. But did it mean the same thing to this Stolas as it did to Blitzø? Blitzø clenched his jaw. Satan, this was confusing as fuck. This’s why he didn’t do feelings.

Then he felt his hand being gently pulled away from Stolas’ thighs.

“Blitzø?” Stolas asked, a smallness in his voice that set off alarm bells in Blitzø’s head. Blitzø’s eyes widened when he saw Stolas’ concerned expression. Fuck. He’d totally spaced out there. “Is everything alright?”

Blitzø opened his mouth to respond, ready to crack some joke or make up some lame–ass excuse, but he was finding it hard to catch his breath. He was dizzy all of a sudden, the alcohol and the exhaustion and the stress from the day finally catching up to him. When was the last time he even slept?

He put a hand against his chest, trying to get control over his breathing as Stolas continued to look at him in concern. But it wasn’t working. Nothing was working. Stolas’ eyes widened in surprise, and he quickly lifted his leg off of Blitzø’s shoulder, placing his hands on Blitzø’s cheeks, gaze roaming over his face, then his body, as if he was checking for injuries.

“Let’s stop there,” Stolas decided, although his face was still flushed, his legs still open.

“No!” Blitzø said, grabbing Stolas’ mesh shirt with both hands. “Shit! Sorry! I just – I started to…I’m fine now! I–I can – I’ll be –”

Better. He’d be better. He’d be perfect. Not this fucked mess Stolas was seeing now. Shit –

He felt the burn of frustrated tears. He let go of Stolas’ shirt to press his palms against his eyes, shaking his head slightly. The room still felt like it was spinning, even with his eyes covered. Their first time together was supposed to be special. It was one of the upsides of this crazy–ass do–over. But then he had to be a horny, drunk asshole and fuck it up. And he totally left Stolas hanging.

He was supposed to be good at this, at least.

“I just need a minute. Guess I’m outta practice,” he managed to say. He just needed to get his shit together, and then he could be everything he was supposed to be.

“That was you out of practice?” Stolas asked, still a little breathless. “And in a cramped bar bathroom, no less. I must say I’m impressed.” Blitzø let out a half–hearted scoff, dropping his hands to look at Stolas. Stolas must’ve seen something in his expression, because that concern was back on his face. But it wasn’t just concern this time, but what looked like some new cocktail of guilt and nervousness. “Did I…do something wrong?” Stolas finally asked, worrying at his bottom lip with his beak, moving to slide his hands off of Blitzø’s cheeks.

“No!” Blitzø said, placing his hands over Stolas’, keeping them on his face. “No! I just…” He was at a loss for words. “No,” he said again, dumbly. “I’m the one fucking up here.” Like always. Like with everyone. He let out a bitter, watery laugh, letting go of Stolas’ hands, but Stolas kept holding his face this time. “I’ve been talkin’ a big fuckin’ game huh, only to pull this lame bullshit. Talk about all bark and no bite.”

“Oh I think you bite quite well,” Stolas said, placing one of his hands on his neck as he blushed. Blitzø let out an amused puff of air, but he still didn’t feel at ease. “Although…” Stolas trailed off, furrowing his brow as he looked away. Blitzø’s heart dropped, feeling a new wave of anxiety rise in his throat. “I need to know,” Stolas began again, that guilt and nervousness obvious in the downturn of his beak. “You didn’t…this wasn’t you doing something you didn’t want to do in order to make me happy, was it –?” Blitzø heard the way his voice cracked with vulnerability.

“No,” Blitzø said firmly, shaking his head. “Trust me. I wanted this.” Stolas met his gaze.

“Me too,” he confessed, voice quiet and sincere. Then his expression became shy, maybe even a little teasing. “I must admit, though, my first wish is not, erm, this, either.” Blitzø looked at him in confusion. Then he managed to crack a smile.

“Is that right? Whatcha got cookin'?”

“Cooking? No, I’m not much of a chef –” Stolas explained, furrowing his brow in confusion. Blitzø let out a laugh, a more relaxed one this time. He kissed Stolas’ cheek like it was second nature.

“Dork. I didn’t mean literally,” he said, a grin tugging at his lips. Stolas’ blush deepened further, his hand covering where Blitzø had kissed him.

“R-right. Of course,” he said, letting out a nervous laugh. “Hm. W–what was I saying?” Blitzø’s expression softened.

“Your wish, birdie,” he said. “Your first wish, since ya kicked my ass twice.”

“Right, yes,” Stolas said, letting out another nervous laugh as he dropped his hand from his cheek. Then his expression shifted into something more determined. “I want to go on a trip again. The four of us.”

“A trip?” Blitzø repeated, considering the idea.

“It doesn’t have to be right away,” Stolas said quickly. “But I want that again. For myself, and for Octavia too. And it must be something that you and Loona would enjoy as well.” He hesitated. “There’s much more that I, um, w-want, but that’s my wish. As for my second wish…I’d like to save that for some time in the future.”

“The future, eh? Guess that is your whole deal,” Blitzø acknowledged. Stolas smiled, something bittersweet but hopeful in it.

“It’s funny. I’ve found myself thinking quite a bit about the past, as of late,” he confessed. Blitzø let out a dry laugh.

“Me too,” he said, his own inside joke. A silence settled over them as they continued to look at each other. Blitzø knew that there was an ever–tangling ball of anxiety still buried deep in his chest, but having Stolas looking at him with such a soft, open expression helped him ignore it.

Then he realized that his pupils were gone.

It was a loss that affected him more than he expected it to.

This past version of Stolas was still a prince, even if he wanted to pretend that he wasn’t for a night. This past version of Stolas still had Octavia, and was already thinking about their next trip together. And this past version of Stolas only showed his pupils in moments that were way too short.

Not for the first time since being dropped here, Blitzø felt like a tourist in a strange place. Yeah, sure, he quite literally existed in this place, in this time, before. But…it was just…so much changed. The future, his present, was different in some important ways. Yes, he really fucking enjoyed getting to know this past Stolas, getting to start over like this, but his thoughts wandered to the Stolas he knew in the future. He still missed him.

He felt like he was being pulled in two different directions.

“Are you –?” Stolas asked, tugging Blitzø back to the present, or the past, or whatever, this shitty bar bathroom – but then there was a harsh knock at the door, the handle jiggling aggressively. The two of them flinched, startled.

“Hurry it up! Gotta take a piss!” a deep, gritty voice called out, annoyed. Blitzø and Stolas looked at each other in surprise, and then they laughed.

Blitzø reached forward to fix Stolas’ mascara, rubbing his thumbs under his eyes until the black smudges weren’t so obvious. Then he hopped off the toilet seat, offering Stolas his hand.

“I’ll make sure that wish comes true,” Blitzø promised. “Another trip sounds pretty damn nice.” Stolas accepted his hand, moving to his feet. He wobbled for a second, and Blitzø put a hand on his hip to keep him steady. Stolas blushed, letting go of Blitzø’s hand to smooth out the feathers on his neck.

“Do I look presentable?” he asked. Blitzø’s expression softened.

“You look great, prin –” Blitzø cut himself off. He hesitated, wondering if he should call him Stolas. He shook his head. “Big bird.” Stolas gave him a nod and a small smile, bending down to fix the collar of Blitzø’s jacket. His hands lingered for a moment.

“C’mon! I’ll bust down the door if I have ta!” Blitzø rolled his eyes, moving to open the door. He looked up to see a large, beefy shark demon in a suit glaring daggers at him as he held his crotch, doing the classic ‘I gotta pee’ dance. Blitzø scoffed.

“All yours, pal,” he said, grabbing Stolas’ hand and gently leading him out of the bathroom and into the narrow, empty hallway. The shark demon rushed inside and slammed the bathroom door closed. Blitzø put his hands on his hips, looking up at Stolas.

“Ya knowwwwww, if ya beat me in pool I'll take suggestions on a new nickname,” he offered, giving Stolas a wink. Stolas’ eyes lit up in excitement.

“Hoo okay! Sounds like fun!” They walked down the hallway and into the main bar space. Thankfully no one had taken over the pool table they were using. Blitzø looked over to see Chaz sulking in a corner booth, sitting next to another shark demon. This one was also wearing a suit, but was lankier, expression severe and calculating. Blitzø wondered if that shark demon taking a piss was part of their crew. He shrugged. As long as Chaz didn’t bother him he didn’t really give a fuck. “Let me grab you a shot, Blitzy, since I, erm, drank your last one,” Stolas said, shifting on his talons bashfully. “Apologies for that.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Blitzø said, waving him off. Then he shot Stolas a teasing grin, nudging his leg with his elbow. “You getting jealous was pretty fuckin' hot.” Stolas’ face flushed red.

“W-was it? O-oh. Good, I think,” he stumbled out, tugging at his tank top, still looking flustered, maybe a little tipsy too. Blitzø knew he himself still had a buzz going at least. Before he could offer another flirty remark, he watched as Stolas hurried over to the bar. Blitzø let out a fond laugh, shaking his head. He moved to re-rack the balls.

Once he was finished, he looked down at the perfect triangle he made. He took a deep breath, rolling his shoulders to ease some of the tension there. He almost really blew it back there, and not the good kinda blowing, but he managed to recover at the end. Or really, they got interrupted before he could make things worse.

He wished he asked future Stolas what he ever saw in him anyway. Then he’d have a better handle on just how to act, which parts of himself to emphasize, which parts to cut loose. Stolas told him that he was creative – is that something he liked? He said he thought ‘highly’ of Blitzø, whatever-the-fuck that meant. Stolas also said he was good in bed, but he’d already screwed the pooch there by getting distracted like a dumbass.

Speaking of getting distracted. He looked up to see Stolas still at the bar, and Blitzø let out a low growl when he saw the horny idiot who was blocking his way.

“Please move,” Stolas said, trying to side-step Chaz.

“Not interested in the whole package?” Chaz said, pumping his hips and shooting Stolas an annoying-ass grin.

“I believe it’s a package I would much prefer to return,” Stolas observed, screwing up his face in displeasure.

“Back off, ya bitch!” Blitzø said, moving to stand in between them, glaring up at Chaz. Chaz let out a startled yelp, covering his crotch reflexively. Blitzø noticed the two shark demons stand up at their table in the corner, attention on Blitzø. Guess they didn’t want their buddy getting his nuts cracked a second time. How considerate. Blitzø’s tail flicked in agitation as he crossed his arms. “I’m not gonna say it again. Beat it.” He stood his ground. Chaz shot him an annoyed look, and then he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Fine,” he said, letting out a pathetic whine. “Your loss!” He threw up his hands, turning to walk away. Blitzø shot out his tail, tripping Chaz up. He fell over, but then he sprung back up, scurrying back to his friends.

“Ha! Get fucked, little one,” Stolas said, sounding pleased. Blitzø turned to look at him, and Stolas held out a shot, holding one of his own. Blitzø reached up to grab it, and they clicked their shots together before downing them.

“You two are pretty rad,” the succubus in the magenta romper observed. She was sitting only a seat away, currently in the other succubus’ lap.

“Oh, thank you! I’ve never been called ‘rad’ before!” Stolas said, excited. The other succubus, the one in the black dress, hummed thoughtfully.

“We’ll have to warn Verosika that there’s a horny weirdo here,” she told her girlfriend, who nodded in agreement. Blitzø’s eyes widened.

“V-Verosika?” he blurted out. The succubi looked at him in interest.

“Oh! Are you a fan?” the succubus in the magenta romper asked. “This is her night off, but we could probs get her to sign something when she gets here!”

Fuuuuuuuuuuuck. Were all the demons Blitzø slept with gonna show up to this random-ass bar?

“Eeeee, yeeeeeah, I'll, uh, I’ll pass," Blitzø said. "We’re actually about to take off." Stolas looked at him in confusion.

“I thought we planned to play another game,” he said, nodding over at the pool table.

“Yeeeeeaaah change of plans, big bird,” Blitzø said, glancing at the bar entrance. He waved over the bar tender. “We’re closing out!”

“Blitzy,” Stolas whined, an adorable pout on his face. The two succubi looked at each other. Shit-fucking-dammit.

“Are you Blitzo?” the one in the black dress asked. The one in the magenta romper started typing furiously on her phone, shooting Blitzø a glare before she went back to typing. Okay, that was definitely their cue to leave. Blitzø grabbed Stolas’ hand and made a beeline for the exit, kicking the door open.

“Blitzø!” Stolas protested, clearly confused. But he needed to get them the fuck outta that bar before he explained anything. He dragged them down the street and into a damp, dimply-lit side alley. It was only then that he let go of Stolas’ hand, peeking around the corner before pressing his back against the brick wall, catching his breath.

Christ on a stick. That was a close one.

“Do you know Verosika Mayday?” Stolas asked. “The pop star?” Blitzø winced.

“It’s…complicated,” Blitzø said vaguely. Stolas shot him a look but said nothing, moving to lean against the wall next to Blitzø.

“Shall we find a different bar, then? I could give Asmodeus a call and see if –”

“No!” Blitzø blurted out, and Stolas looked down at him, startled.

“I-I mean, I’ve heard his place is dry-as-fuck,” Blitzø offered weakly. Stolas frowned, clearly not buying it.

“You seemed to know that very forward fellow as well,” Stolas observed, tracking Blitzø’s expression, gaze calculating, although his face still had a pink tinge from the alcohol. “You know quite the cast of characters. Are things ‘complicated’ with him too?” He glanced down at Blitzø’s crystal. “Or with the King of Lust?”

“I…” Blitzø began, having absolutely no clue what he should say here. He didn’t wanna blatantly lie. But the truth didn’t sound so good, either.

“Hm,” Stolas said, looking away from Blitzø and staring at the wall on the other side of the alley.

“Wait, I think you’re gettin’ the wrong idea here…” Blitzø began.

“Then elucidate me,” Stolas said, clasping his hands together.

“Is that like…a, ya know, kinky thing?” Blitzø asked. He always got confused when Stolas used big words like that. Stolas sighed.

“You told that shark demon that you were taken,” Stolas said. “Is that true? And please don’t say that it’s ‘complicated’." There was a vulnerability in his voice as he glanced at Blitzø before looking at the ground.

“It’s…that’s…” Blitzø began, thoughts of future Stolas floating to the surface of his mind. But that Stolas was this Stolas. This Stolas would be that Stolas eventually, wouldn’t he? He shook his head. “No, I’m not taken. I was just tryna get that cocksucker off my back.” Stolas let out a humorless laugh, leaning his head against the wall. Blitzø looked up at him in confusion.

“You really are a terrible liar, Blitzø,” Stolas said quietly. Blitzø’s eyes widened. He pushed off the wall, moving to face Stolas.

“I’m telling the truth! There’s no one in the picture!” Actually, that was a half-lie. Staring at Stolas right now – he wasn’t just 'in the picture'. He was the picture. Stolas looked down at him, expression hard to decipher.

“Okay,” he said with a nod of his head. “You are unattached.” He paused, worrying at his bottom lip. “But you have feelings for someone, don’t you?” Blitzø watched him glance at his crystal again. “Perhaps the demon who gave you that crystal?”

“It’s…I mean…” Blitzø said, fumbling over his words like a fucking idiot. He wasn't sober enough for this.

“No one has ever wanted me before,” Stolas confessed, voice thick with meaning. “So I'm not very practiced in this type of thing. But you clearly want this individual. I am not so dense as to miss that much. There were moments when we were…I could tell that part of you was elsewhere." He paused, giving Blitzø a smile that seemed forced. "That must be a lovely feeling. For yourself as well as for them. To have them in your heart even when you’re not together.” Blitzø shook his head.

“I want you, prin-Sto-,” Blitzø cut himself off, second-guessing what he should call him. Stolas smiled bitterly.

“It’s okay, Blitzy. Perhaps you do want me, but you wish for someone else. Someone you’ve known longer, I assume. Know better.” Even though they were standing only a few feet apart, Blitzø could feel the distance that Stolas was putting in between them. Blitzø clenched his fists, feeling frustrated and stuck.

If he admitted that he was madly in love with Stolas now – would that scare Stolas off? It seemed pretty clear that Stolas was attracted to him, even though he’d totally fucked it back there, and Stolas seemed to like him well enough. But there was no way that Stolas had real, romantic feelings for him yet. The ball of anxiety in his chest expanded, applying a pressure inside his chest that was making it hard to take proper breaths again.

Fuck it. He should just bare it all for Stolas now. He could come up with some bullshit explanation as to how he fell so hard so fast on the fly. He just didn’t want to see that distant, defeated look on Stolas’ face. Not anymore. Not again. He didn’t want to hurt Stolas again. He opened his mouth, but then Stolas suddenly rushed past him, hurrying to the other wall and placing a hand on it as he bent over to throw up. Blitzø stared dumbly for a moment, and then he hurried over to place a comforting hand on Stolas’ back, reaching up on the balls of his feet.

“Easy there,” Blitzø said, using a soothing tone. Stolas wiped his beak with the back of his hand, looking pale. Blitzø bit his lip, hesitating, and then he shook his head. “I think that’s our cue to getcha home.”

He had time. He’d have the chance to confess properly when they weren’t buzzed in a dirty alley in Lust.

Stolas nodded, moving to straighten up. Blitzø rubbed his crystal, opening a diamond-shaped portal that revealed Stolas’ front steps. He put a hand on Stolas’ hip, guiding them both through.

“Where should I drop ya off, big bird?” Blitzø asked. “Bedtime, yeah?” Stolas tensed, shaking his head.

“Stella will be there,” he said, a slight fear in his voice that made Blitzø’s jaw clench. “Could you help me to the guest room? I can lead the way. I’m just a tad unsteady on my feet at the moment,” he explained. Blitzø’s expression softened.

“Of course." Stolas waved his hand, opening the front door with magic. Following Stolas’ directions, they quietly navigated through the dim and empty hallways of the palace until they reached an ornate bedroom Blitzø had never seen before. He set Stolas down gently to sit on the bed. He still looked a little woozy, but overall alright. Then Blitzø noticed his neck and realized something. He leaned forward, putting gentle hands there, parting feathers to see where he’d left bruises and red marks.

“Guess I got carried away,” Blitzø said with a wince. He hoped to fuck that they were hidden enough that Stella wouldn’t notice. Or Octavia. Shit. Stolas waved his hand, and Blitzø watched as a blue glow of magic appeared on his neck, and then those bruises disappeared.

“Nothing to worry about,” Stolas said. “Minor injuries like this I can quickly heal with magic.” Blitzø furrowed his brow. In the past, he remembered seeing his hickeys on Stolas’ neck in the morning more than a few times. Pretty often, actually. His eyes widened. Did Stolas choose to keep them? Then he realized something else, something that replaced the butterflies in his stomach with a liquid dread.

He was pretty positive that this Stolas had never gotten hickeys before. So why was he so practiced at healing minor injuries? He found himself reaching for Stolas, wanting to hold him, wanting to ask him more questions, to figure out a few things, but he held himself back, seeing the exhausted look on Stolas’ face.

He went over to pull back the covers and coaxed Stolas into bed, tucking him in. He noticed that the guest room had a bathroom. He should probably grab Stolas some water. He turned to head towards the bathroom, but Stolas grabbed his wrist.

“You’re leaving?” Stolas asked. “Without saying goodbye?” Blitzø shook his head.

“I was just gonna grab you some water, birdie. So ya don’t feel like shit in the morning.”

“Oh,” Stolas said, voice small, a childlike quality to it. Blitzø smoothed his headfeathers, and Stolas closed his eyes, leaning into his hand. “I still have another wish,” he mumbled. “That means we will have to keep in touch, yes?” Blitzø smiled softly.

“Yeah. And I gotta start planning that trip.” Stolas smiled.

“Promise that this isn’t like the last time?” he asked. “I could pay you more…” Blitzø’s heart clenched painfully at the way he said that.

“No payment needed. And I promise I won’t disappear. You’ll be sick of me,” he said, thinking about what Stolas had said to Octavia back at the observatory.

“I fear that’s impossible,” Stolas confessed, a bittersweetness in his expression. “Thank you, Blitzø, for today.” Blitzø scoffed.

“I wanted it to be better,” he found himself confessing. He thought about the way other demons avoided Stolas on the elevator, about Fizz at the plant shop asking Stolas if anyone loved him, about Stolas and Octavia being delayed cuz of some fight with Stella, about his freak-out at the observatory, and that game with the shots, and Chaz, and the bathroom, and Verosika –

He heard a quiet puff of air, and he looked down to see that Stolas had fallen asleep. He let out a quiet scoff, smoothing out his blanket. Then he went to the bathroom, filling a clean glass with water and returning to set it on the nightstand. He hesitated, and then pressed a barely-there kiss on Stolas’ forehead, his nightly ritual with future Stolas. But this Stolas was sleeping in a large, comfortable bed, not his shitty couch.

“Goodnight, Stolas,” he whispered. He took a few steps away, and then rubbed his crystal, walking through the portal into his apartment. The moment the portal closed behind him, the exhaustion from the day finally caught up to him in full force. He flopped onto the bean bag chair, his whole body aching. He didn’t even have the energy to change his clothes. He closed his eyes, looking forward to finally getting some sleep.

“MORNING B!” a cheery voice said.

“We’re already running late, sir!” another voice said, way less cheery and clearly stressed. “And why're you using a fancy cape as a blanket? Please tell me you didn’t steal that from someone important –”

“And why’re you sleeping on the bean bag and not the couch? Were you that drunk last night?”

“You were drinking last night? Did you forget we have a job today, sir?”

Blitzø cracked open an eye to see Millie, Moxxie, and Loona standing over him, morning light pouring through the blinds. Millie’s expression was energetic as always, Moxxie’s exasperated, and Loona’s suspicious. He groaned, pulling his blanket over his head. Wait. He sat up, looking down with tired, bleary eyes to see that he’d been using Stolas’ cape. He put a hand on his forehead, his head pounding.

“Here, drink some water,” Loona said, holding out a plastic cup. Blitzø downed it in one gulp, wiping his mouth with the back of his wrist.

“Thanks, Loonie,” he said. Loona shrugged, inspecting her claws. Shit. He felt like he just closed his eyes. He probably got in two hours, maybe three tops.

“C’mon boss! Today’s a money-makin' day!” Millie reminded him. “And we need that money.” Blitzø grimaced, feeling slightly sick. But he willed himself to stand, draping Stolas’ cape delicately on the bean bag chair. He made a note that he’d have to return it at some point. He didn’t mind the excuse to see Stolas sooner rather than later.

He slapped his cheeks, but it didn’t do shit.

“O-kay! Let’s kill some fuckers!” Blitzø declared. Then he felt a wave of nausea and made a beeline for the bathroom, covering his mouth with one hand.

“Here we go,” Loona said. “I knew today was gonna be a shit-show.” Moxxie let out a dramatic sigh.

Chapter Text

Blitzø sucked loudly on the straw of his iced latte, sugar and bitterness hitting his tongue as he felt his eyelid continue to twitch. How long was too long for an eyelid to twitch? Cuz this bitch had been going on for hours at this point.

But he was fine. He’d get this job done real fast and then take a fat nap on the couch. He wondered if Stolas was sleeping in. Hopefully he drank that water. Should he text him to make sure? He was already worried about what that ball-and-chain might do. Should he have brought Stolas back to his place to crash? But what would Loona think? What would Octavia think?

“Sir!” Moxxie said. Blitzø was pulled from his thoughts.

“Ugh, what, Moxxie?” He crumpled his empty coffee cup and threw it over his shoulder. They were standing on the roof of a tall building. Moxxie had been looking through the scope of his rifle, surveying the area.

The sky was bright pink, and there were tiny floating islands in the distance. Some of those islands had waterfalls, streams of clear water meeting the ground in perfect sheets. It was like a bubblegum wonderland. Blitzø adjusted his sunglasses. He didn’t fuck with it. Especially not when he was hungover as shit.

Maybe he could get some pills while he was here. Something to cure this massive headache. Then he remembered Stolas’ antidepressants. Was this Stolas already taking them? Or was that a later thing? Did Stolas start taking antidepressants after they'd reunited? He wasn’t sure which option was worse.

“Sir, this is getting ridiculous,” Moxxie said, clearly exasperated. He stepped away from the rifle, which was held in place by a stand, and put a hand on his hip as he faced Blitzø. “How’re we supposed to do this job while you’re clearly distracted?”

“I’m not distracted!” Blitzø said defensively. “I’m just waiting for you to do your job, which is letting me know when you see the target. And then when I give you the signal, you shoot the target, ‘kay? It’s not that complicated.”

“It’d certainly make the process easier if I didn’t have to keep yelling at you to get your attention, sir,” Moxxie grumbled, moving to look through the scope again. “Just saying.”

“Well feel free to put that complaint in the ol’ complaint box, Moxx.”

“We have a complaint-box?”

“Yeah. It’s up your clenched asshole.”

“Very funny, sir.”

Blitzø felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He pulled it out, seeing a text from Millie.

Any sign?

Nah. Hbu?

Nothin. Idk if this is working B

Blitzø groaned.

Wher r u?

“Enough with this foreplay,” Blitzø said aloud, flicking his tail in agitation. They’d been trying to find the target for hours. All they had to go off of was that there was an imp in Sloth who was selling on someone else’s turf. Rookie mistake. That was a quick way to piss off the wrong person. But hey, it was none of Blitzø’s business. Well, killing the sorry son-of-a-bitch was, but that was about it.

And this job was supposed to be a major meal ticket. They’d never had a job in Sloth before. He didn’t remember ever doing one, at least. Assassinations weren’t really the vibe here. He didn’t remember this mysterious, loaded client, either. The guy hadn’t even met them in-person. One of Millie’s old connects reached out and gave her the deets.

Did this whole thing sound shady-as-fuck? Yes. But as long as it was fucking over someone else, not them, he didn’t really give two shits.

“We’re meetin' up with Loona and Millie and making a new plan,” Blitzø told Moxxie. Moxxie nodded, packing up his rifle.

“Sounds good, sir.” He paused, rocking on his heels. “You knowww, if you want me to take the lead –” Blitzø laughed.

“Yeah, hard pass.” He remembered that whole camp operation. What a shit-show, for multiple reasons. This wasn’t the type-a job to let Moxxie be ‘creative’ again. Definitely not when they were broke.

And Millie made a good point this morning while he was cradling the toilet, wondering if he should back outta the job and sleep.

“I know you ain’t feelin’ so well, Blitzø, but think you can suck it up?” she’d said gently, voice muffled on the other side of the bathroom door. “Remember, reputation is everything. Hard to build our business if we’re all flighty.”

She was right. And although he’d rather eat rocks than admit it, Moxxie was right, too. He needed to focus. His phone screen lit up, and he saw the message from Millie. He rubbed his crystal and grabbed Moxxie’s elbow, pulling him along as he stepped through the portal that appeared.

They were in a narrow alley. Loona was leaning against the wall, on her phone. Millie had been peeking around the alley, but hurried over to join them as the portal closed.

“This target’s one slippery bitch,” Millie said, waving her knife impatiently. “They were supposed to be comin’ this way, weren't they?”

“This is the area where they’ve been selling, according to the client,” Moxxie confirmed. Blitzø sighed, rubbing his temples as he tried to think.“Looks like we needa split up and fan out,” Blitzø decided, dropping his hands. “Mills, you go left. Moxxie, you go up ahead. I’ll take the right, and Loonie –” Loona looked up at him in surprise.

He was about to tell her to go back the way they started when they first portaled here, in case they’d just missed the target. But then he remembered that Loona wasn’t helping with jobs yet. He was still having her hang back where it was safe.

Before he traveled back in time, he’d just started letting her do more, and she seemed more interested in helping, but that was in the future. So he needed to dial it back.

“You stay here,” he decided. Loona shrugged, looking back down at her phone.

“Sure, whatever.”

“If shit goes down ‘round here you call me, ‘kay –?”

“Yeah, yeah, got it,” she said, waving him off. “I’ll be fine. Hurry up so I can go home.” Blitzø checked that his gun was locked and loaded in his holster.  

“Great. Ready M&M? Or do I needa repeat those instructions for your teeny-weenie brain, Moxx –?

“I’m going up ahead,” Moxxie said, rolling his eyes. “Not that hard to follow, sir.”

“Don’t wanna hear about how hard your head is,” Blitzø said. “Not work appropriate. Save it for when I’m peeping on you two at home, alright?”

“S-sir!” Moxxie protested, but Blitzø was already running out of the alley and taking a sharp right. He scanned the street. It was the middle of the day, so there were random demons roaming about. But he knew from the times he broke into – uh, visited – the rehab center here, which actually wasn’t that far from where he was now, that there weren’t many imps. So it should be easy enough to spot one. But clearly it wasn’t. He was starting to worry that this was gonna be a day-long goose chase and they’d come up with dick.

Damn. He forgot how annoying these jobs used to be. Sinners were much easier to deal with. And keeping their work in the living world made things clean. That is, up until Satan was on their ass for being there in the first place.

And he knew he was slow today, though he was too stubborn to admit it. He already had three coffees in his system, but it wasn’t doing shit. His eyes were bleary. His headache was still pounding. And his thoughts were still drifting back to Stolas.

Then he saw a red tail with a triangular tip disappear around a street corner. He grinned. Bingo. He headed in that direction, pulling out his phone as he ran.

“I'm on their tail,” Blitzø said, working hard to keep up, though the imp was moving fast. Every time Blitzø turned onto a new street he just barely caught them turning onto another one. Slippery bitch was right. He glanced around to see a pharmacy. “I’m passing the pharmacy by one of those waterfalls. See what I’m talkin’ about?”

“Got it, B. Headin’ there now. Don’t kill ‘em ‘till I get there! Or I sharpened by knife for nothin’!”

“Hurry your ass up then!” Blitzø said good-naturedly. “And let Moxxie know, too. I gotta focus.” He hung up, shoving his phone in his pocket as he picked up the pace. He skidded to a stop when he realized he reached a dead end, a line of pink dumpsters and a tall chain link fence blocking the way. He sighed, putting his hands on his hips as he looked around. He was so close. Where could this asshole have gone? Then his eyes widened. Aw fuck –

Realizing a second too late, he was ambushed from behind, getting pushed roughly to the ground. His sunglasses flew off, and he squinted at the harsh light. His headache got about ten times worse.

“Shit, ‘kay, ya got me. Don’t needa twist my arm behind my back that hard,” he complained, face pressed into the pavement. “Or is this getting’ ya off, cuz if you let me go I can –”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” an all-too familiar voice said. Blitzø’s eyes widened. He quickly slipped out of the imp’s grip, which had slackened, and he propped himself up on his elbows to see Barbie glaring down at him, tail flicking around dangerously.

“Barb?” Blitzø said dumbly, eyes still wide. “The fuck? You’re supposed to be in rehab –”

“And you’re supposed to be outta my fucking business, dickhead,” she crossed her arms stubbornly. Blitzø scrambled to stand, and she took a step away from him, eyes still narrowed. “What? Heard I broke out and came to hunt me down?” Blitzø wiped the dust from his jacket. Then he picked up his sunglasses, putting them in his pocket.

“Heh, not exactly,” he confessed. Then he got more serious. “Don’t tell me you pissed off some powerful asshole here.” Her expression told him everything he needed to know. He sighed. “Someone’s tryna kill you, ya know that, right? Why in Satan’s dickhole didn’t you tell me –?”

“I’ve got it handled!” Barbie said, looking pissed as she threw up her hands. “I don’t need you getting involved in my business!”

“I’m already involved!” Blitzø said, gesturing wildly. “My team was hired to kill your ass! Think if I back off there still won’t be a price on your head? This guy’s paying big money, Barb –”

“I know!” she said, frustrated now. “If you need to know, you nosy dickbag, that asswipe doctor landed me in rehab in the first place! That’s why I had to get outta there. Otherwise I’d be waitin’ like a dumbass for some assassin to put a bullet in my head!” She was in Blitzø’s face at this point, jabbing her finger into his chest. She looked frantic and…scared. Blitzø grabbed her hand.

“Then let me help!” he said firmly, basically pleaded. “Tell me what’s goin’ on, Barb –” She yanked her hand away from his hold, crossing her arms and turning slightly away from him as she glared at one of the alley walls. Then she exhaled, relaxing her shoulders.

“There’s this doctor at St. Ann’s that’s distributing these fucked drugs to demons who no one would give a shit about if…something bad happened to them,” she explained vaguely. Blitzø’s eyes widened even further.

“How’d you hear about this?”

“I didn't just 'hear' about it. I know from personal experience,” she said, still looking angry. “This shit’s different. Like I said, it’s what landed me in rehab. But I didn’t realize how big his operation was at first, exactly what he was doing until I talked to some of the demons I met there. It’s fucked. Then I guess some cumrag ratted me out, sayin’ shit about how I wanted to expose this whole ‘business’ so demons like me didn’t go through the same mess.” She sighed, shaking her head. “Well, this doctor doesn’t wanna lose his precious test subjects, so long story short he didn’t like gettin’ that news. So now I’m on the run while he sends assholes like you to kill me,” she said, gesturing to him. Blitzø noticed the way she trembled, the way her pupils looked a little too big. The way her tail kept flicking around.

“Barb, are you on that shit right now?” he asked. He watched as she pressed her palms against her forehead.

“Of course I am! I told you this drug is something else! I can’t – I can’t focus without it, and I need to be able to focus right now –”

“I can help you!” Blitzø said, taking a step towards her. “You can crash at my place in Pride. Loona takes some time to warm up to strangers, but I have a feeling you two would really hit it off –”

“Who the fuck is Loona?” she asked, looking at him in confusion.

“Right. Yeah. She’s my daughter,” Blitzø said, rubbing the back on his neck. In this own timeline, he’d never gotten the chance to tell Barbie about Loona. It stung, being reminded of just how separate their lives had gotten, when they used to be attached at the hip.

“Wowww,” Barbie said, letting out a bitter laugh. “Destroyed the family you grew up with so you go find another one, huh?”

“It’s not – Loona isn’t a replacement –”

“Does she even know how much of a dickbag you are? What you’ve done?” she asked, turning to face him fully.

“Barb, please,” Blitzø urged. “We can sort this shit out later. You can tell Loona what happened yourself if you want, but we should get the hell outta this ring. We…we can look out for each other, like we always used to –”

“Yeah, before you fucked everything!” she said, clenching her fists. Her tail was still whishing around wildly. Her pupils were still blown wide. “Some things you can’t just ‘fix’, no matter how much you suddenly want to! Wanting isn’t good enough, Blitzø! There’re a lot of things I want but I’ll never have! Like Mom!” Blitzø saw the tears in her eyes as she confessed that last part. Her expression hit him like a ton of bricks, knocking the wind out of him. Because he put that pain there.

He’d gone far enough back in time to prevent all his Stolas-related fuck ups. But this? It was too late to fix this. To prevent that fire. To prevent hurting Fizz and Barbie.

To prevent losing Mom.

“Barb, I’m so, so sorry –”

“Enough with the cringe bullshit, Blitzø,” Barbie said, wiping her eyes with the inside of her wrist. She looked angry and exhausted. Blitzø wondered how long she’d been running since she broke out of rehab, always looking over her shoulder, getting high off the supply she was hooked on, which was also the reason she was in such deep shit in the first place. Then Blitzø watched as Barbie glanced at his wrist. “Where’d you even get that? You a succubus now?”

“It’s…a long story,” Blitzø tried to explain. Barbie scoffed.

“It always is with you,” she said bitterly. “I don’t need your help. I can figure my shit out on my own.” She clenched her jaw, a sadness in her expression. Her tail finally stopped moving. “When you rely on anyone else…it just fucks you over.” Blitzø shook his head, feeling frustrated.

“Barb! I can help! I won’t fuck up anymore –!”

“Stop! I don’t care what you think you can do! Not anymore!” she said, turning her back fully now, so she was facing the garbage bins. “If you’re not gonna kill me, then get lost and pretend you never saw me.”

“Barb, please,” Blitzø said, voice wavering, reaching out his hand. “I need you –”

“And that’s your mistake,” Barbie said. Her shoulders were tense, fists clenched. Then she ran towards the garbage bins, leaping on top of them and climbing over the tall fence with the acrobatic grace that’d been trained into her. Into both of them.

Blitzø watched her go with wide eyes, feeling the sting of incoming tears. Then he shook his head. No. He couldn’t just let her go like this. He couldn’t lose her, too.

He realized that he was holding onto the skull pendant on his neck.

He wondered what Mom would think. She’d hate this. She always told them to look out for each other. He took a step towards the garbage bins, determined to chase her down and be as annoying as he had to be until she caved.

Then he felt something hard whack against the back of his head, and everything went black.

"Ugh," Blitzo groaned, finally coming to after who knows how long. When opened his eyes, blinking away the bleariness, he immediately noticed a few things. First, his headache was a million times worse now, like holy fuck. Second, his hands were tied behind his back and his ankles were tied together, so he couldn’t get up from where he was laying. Fan-fucking-tastic. Third, he was in some random-ass, run-down warehouse. Pieces of the ceiling were missing, so he could see the bubblegum pink sky peeking through the rusted tin roof.

Wait. There was a fourth thing. Fifth thing? He lost count, his head was absolutely pounding. Whatever. The other thing he noticed was that the concrete floor he was laying on was wet. He scanned the ceiling and noticed a waterfall pouring through one of the holes in the metal roof. There was a grate that prevented this shit-hole from flooding entirely, but the place definitely wasn’t dry.

“Hell-oooooo,” Blitzø called out. “What? Are wet socks some torture tactic? Cuz it sure is pissing me off. Being tied up I can get behind, though, Daddy likes a little rope burn -”

“The resemblance is quite uncanny,” a voice said, and Blitzø squirmed around to see a baphomet with light pink fur and a candle with a bright pink flame on his head. He was wearing a white doctor’s coat. He looked kinda like the schmuck who gave Loona her Hellbies shot, but he wasn’t the same guy.

“Oh I’ll show you a can, you goat fuck,” Blitzø said, bearing his teeth in a smile as he covertly tried reaching for the knife he kept in his jacket. But it wasn’t there.

“Looking for this?” another voice said. Blitzø squirmed again to see a lanky shark-demon in a pinstripe suit move to join the baphomet’s side. He was holding Blitzø’s knife, waving it around and giving Blitzø a shit-eating grin that really pissed him off.

Blitzø heaved himself upwards so he was kneeling on the ground, at least. Then he gave the shark demon another look, squinting his eyes.

Ah shit. He recognized him. He was at the bar with Chaz last night.

“Finn thought you were the target,” the doctor explained, hands clasped behind his back. “And you do look very alike. What a coincidence, that one of the assassins I hired is also the twin of the very imp I wanted dead.”

“This dickrag’s name is Finn?” Blitzø asked, giving the shark-demon a withering look. “What? Your mom run outta names after popping out too many turds like you, or did she take one look atcha and knew you weren’t worth the energy it takes to come up with a name that’s not stupid-as-fuck?” He let out a laugh. “Don’t tell me ya have a brother named ‘Swimmy’ or I’ll actually piss myself –”

Before he could react, his face was slammed down into the concrete. Satan’s taint that hurt like hell.

“Don’t say mean things about my ma!” a new voice said. Blitzø groaned, moving his face to see a much larger shark-demon in a gray suit standing over him, chest heaving in anger.

“That’s Finn,” the lanky shark-demon said, flashing his sharp teeth. “It’s in your best interest not to piss him off.”

“Noted,” Blitzø said, trying to ignore the pain as his head swam. Then he was lifted back into his knees by the larger shark-demon. He realized that this was the shark that interrupted him and Stolas cuz he needed to piss. He made a note to shoot a hole through that thick skull once he got the opportunity. One of them had his gun though, since it wasn’t in his holster. So he'd have to be patient.

“I do think it’s in your best interest to cooperate,” the doctor agreed, taking another step towards Blitzø and looking him over. “You failed to do the job I gave you, but I’m confident that you still have a use.”

“Ooo talk dirty to me, doc,” Blitzø said, feeling blood trickling down his nose.

“This’s why demons shouldn’t bother hiring imps if they want results,” the lanky shark-demon said, rolling his eyes. “You’re scraping the bottom of the barrel with these idiots.” Blitzø spat a glob of blood on the floor.

“Untie me and they’ll be scraping you off this floor,” Blitzø promised.

“Now, now. Let’s not make this harder than it needs to be,” the doctor began.

“Ooooh but I like it hard, doc,” Blitzø said. “Just like 'Finn’s' mom, I bet –” He was kicked in the ribs so hard he slid across the concrete floor. “Fuck!”

“That hard enough for ya, prick?” the lanky shark-demon said with a grin.

“Not even close,” Blitzø said through gritted teeth. He slid his tail upwards, using the triangular tip  to start sawing into the ropes around his hands, making sure he was facing these stooges so they didn’t notice what he was up to. The doctor sighed, shaking his head.

“I didn’t bring you here to hurt you, Blitzø,” the doctor said. “I just need a favor from you.”

“Oh yeah. Why do I have a feeling I’m not gonna like this favor?”

“Let me propose it first. Then if you decide you’re unwilling to cooperate, then we can…go with our alternative plan.” Blitzø had a feeling he wasn’t gonna like this ‘alternative plan’ either. Cuz it almost definitely ended with him dead in a ditch somewhere.

“Fine. Give me your pitch, doc,” Blitzø said, continuing to carefully saw at his ropes. If he could stall long enough, then he could get his hands free, make a portal, and get the fuck outta there. He just hoped that M&M and Loona were okay. Barb, too. He was banking on them being safe. Otherwise they’d probably be tied up here with him.

“Your sister has been…misled about a few things,” the doctor explained. “She has convinced herself that I’m some kind of villain, when in reality, I’m only trying to help the community at large.”

“Wonder what gave her that idea,” Blitzø said dryly, rolling his eyes. “Word of advice? Hiring a pair of suit-wearing goons and a group of assassins doesn’t really give off a ‘benevolent doctor’ vibe.”  

“I’ll keep that in mind,” the doctor said with a nod, although Blitzø knew he didn’t give a fuck. He cleared this throat, making a quiet, bleating noise. “Regardless, her unfortunate drug use has corroded her mind to such a degree that she is both a danger to herself and those around her.”

“Enough to order a hit on her?” Blitzø asked, raising a brow. The doctor sighed.

“You’re right. I got…carried away,” he admitted. “I’ve decided to change course. Now I only want to ensure that she returns to the rehabilitation facility so that she gets the care that she needs.”

Yeah, this was total bullshit. Blitzø could sniff it out easily from here. Demons in Pride could probably smell it.

“What a hero,” Blitzø said dryly. He managed to cut through some of the rope. He was probably about halfway to freedom. “So where does this favor come in?”

“All I need you to do is give her a call and tell her to meet you here,” the doctor explained. Blitzø let out a laugh.

“Good luck. Barb hates my guts. She has my number blocked,” he explained. “So I guess I can’t help ya after all. That mean I can go home now?” The doctor let out a disappointed sigh.

“I had the sense that you possessed much more determination when I first learned about your business,” he confessed. “But I guess you give up too easily when things are difficult.”

Ooo now that hit a nerve. Blitzø hated when random fuckers acted like they knew dick about him.

“Sorry that I don’t love the idea of luring my sister to a warehouse with two mafia assholes,” Blitzø said, glaring at the two shark-demons. Now that he thought about it, he wondered if they were part of Crimson’s crew. He wouldn’t be shocked.

“I think we can persuade you to change your mind,” the doctor said. “That's much of my life’s work, after all. Altering the mind.” Blitzø didn’t like the sound of that.

He tried sawing at the ropes faster, he was so close, but then the doctor snapped his fingers and Finn hoisted him up into the air by the neck, walking him over to the waterfall. Blitzø wiggled around wildly, kicking him in the ribs with his tied-up legs, but this tank of a demon was too strong. The stupid fucker didn’t even wince.

“I’ll offer you one more chance,” the doctor said, he and the lanky shark-demon moving to join them by the waterfall. He pulled Blitzø’s phone out of the pocket of his white coat, waving it at him. “We can do this the easy way and you can call her, or we can do it the way that you claimed to prefer. The hard way.”

“Go blow yourself, you old –!” the doctor gave Finn a nod and Finn shoved Blitzø’s face into the waterfall, holding him there. The stream was thick enough that his whole head was submerged. He tried wiggling out of the shark-demon’s grip again, but it was impossible.

He started getting flashbacks to that fight in the pool of that fucked hotel. Getting thrown into the water. Watching as his possessed body swam through it and fought Millie. Feeling so helpless and terrified. Forced to watch his biggest mistakes.

He choked on the water, desperately struggling against the half-cut through rope tied around his wrists. Before he passed out he managed to slip his hands free, and he began clawing at Finn’s hand around his neck, tearing through flesh. He thrashed his tail around wildly, the point of it cutting through something. But then someone grabbed his tail and he was being flung through the air, landing hard on the concrete.

He was seeing stars, and even though is hands were free now he was struggling to push himself up from the ground. He coughed out the water in his lungs, trying to catch his breath. He felt another kick to his ribs that made him gasp and scrunch his face up in pain. He had a pretty high tolerance for pain, but as much as he hated to admit it, these assholes were really fucking him up.

“Hm. Maybe you don’t give up easily,” the doctor mused, almost impressed. “It looks like it’s just a matter of where your motivation lies.”

“Fuck you,” Blitzø coughed out. He began lifting himself up, hands pressed against the concrete, but he quickly collapsed. The shitty warehouse was spinning, everything looking out of focus. The doctor sighed.

“What a shame. Looks like we won’t be able to change your mind. Finn, Gino, time to clean up this mess, and be discreet about it, please. I have enough to worry about with that bitch still on the loose.”

“Of course,” the lanky shark-demon – Gino, apparently – said, pulling a gun out of his jacket. Blitzø struggled to place his hand on his crystal. He just needed to open a portal. He’d roll himself through it if he had to.

Then a phone began to ring. He recognized his ring tone.

“Oh?” the doctor said. He looked down at Blitzø’s phone. He looked hopeful for a moment, probably expecting it to be Barbie, but then his face fell. “Damn...wait." Now he looked interested. "Who's this ‘Princey’?”

Shit.

Finn moved to peek over the doctor’s shoulder, bending down to get a better look at the phone screen.

“That’s the bird we saw this imp with at the bar last night, Gino!” he said. “Crazy coincidence, right?” Blitzø mentally smacked his forehead. He’d made Stolas’ contact photo the picture of them of the observatory roof. Loona had sent it to him this morning. Christ on a stick. He had a bad feeling about this.

“This 'bird' is a Goetic prince,” the doctor said, goat eyes lighting up. He looked down at Blitzø. “Friend of yours?”

“No,” Blitzø said, glaring up at him. “Just an old client. Waaaay better than your crazy ass, though, as far as clients go.”

“Old client, eh?” Gino said, a malicious grin on his face. “Finn here told me last night how some imp and bird were gettin’ it on in the bathroom. You two did look mighty cozy. I figured you were a couple, given how you treated our friend.”

“Your ‘friend’ is a douchebag,” Blitzø said. “His annoying ass deserved worse.”

The doctor answered the phone, holding it up to his ear.

“No! Wait!” Blitzø said, but it was too late.

“Hello there,” the doctor said, all friendliness. “Ah, yes. Blitzø is a bit, um, tied up at the moment,” he answered. Finn smothered his laugh. Gino elbowed his ribs. “You’d like to speak with him? Sure! Give me one moment.” He covered the phone with his hand. Then he nodded at Gino and Finn. Gino walked over to Blitzø, aiming his gun at Blitzø’s head. Finn grabbed both of Blitzø arms, twisting them uncomfortably behind his back.

“Don’t try anything funny, imp,” the doctor said. He bent down, holding out the phone towards Blitzø and putting it on speaker.

“H-hey, big bird. This isn’t really a good time right now –” 

“Blitzø, what’s going on?” Stolas said, sounding nervous. “I messaged you and I got no reply, and now some random demon is answering your phone in your stead…”

“I’m a friend of the family,” the doctor explained. “Though I know Blitzø’s twin sister a bit better, I must admit. Don’t mind me.”

“You have a sister, Blitzy?” Stolas said, surprised. “Wow! I always wondered what it must be like to have a sibling –”

“Stolas,” Blitzø interrupted, and the doctor gave him a warning look. “Uhhh…” he cleared his throat, “was there something you needed?”

“Needed?” Stolas asked. Blitzø picked up on the shift in his tone. He sounded disappointed, deflated. Shit-fucking-dammit.

“It’s just, I’m busy working right now, so maybe I can call ya back later –”

“Oh, I apologize for distracting you from your work!” Stolas said. “I only…I only wanted to tell you that I, erm, had a nice time last night. And I wanted to apologize for, you know – oh what is that phrase? Ah! ‘Killing the mood’. Octavia taught me that one. I typically have quite a high tolerance, but there are rare occasions when the wrong mix of alcohol sneaks up on me when I least expect it! It can be quite a dangerous game.” Blitzø couldn’t help but let out an amused puff of air, a fond smile tugging at his lips. Then he realized that this fuck-ass doctor was watching his expression closely. He dropped his smile, keeping his expression as neutral as possible.

“Nothing to apologize for,” Blitzø assured him. He hesitated. It was probably stupid, but he couldn’t help but ask. “You feelin’ okay? You drank that water, right?” Stolas let out a titter.

“Yes, I did. Thank you for leaving it there. How are you faring today, Blitzy?” Blitzø glanced up at the gun pointed at his head. He felt the strain in his arms as they were restrained behind his back. The dick-for-brains was kneeling on his tail, too. And it felt like his head was in the process of splitting open. He was pretty sure there was still blood coming out of his nose, the shallow water under him tinged with pink.

“I’ve, uh…” he hesitated, looking at the doctor. “Had better days.”

“You know, I have some medicinal plants that help me when I have a terrible hangover,” Stolas said. “After you’re finished with your job, perhaps I could stop by your apartment, or we could meet somewhere –?”

“That sounds like a lovely idea!” the doctor said, grinning. Blitzø really didn’t like the expression on his face.

“Oh, you’re still here –?” Stolas asked, confused. “Could you, um, give Blitzø his phone –?”

“Ah, I wish I could,” the doctor said, although he didn’t sound apologetic in the slightest. “But we have plans to kill him.”

“WHAT!” Stolas squawked. Then he let out a nervous laugh, clearing his throat. “Ah, yes, do you tell clown jokes as well? Oh! Are you from the circus?”

“Blitzy and I aren’t exceptionally close,” the doctor explained. “But you two, on the other hand, seem very friendly with each other.” He gave Blitzø a wink. Blitzø clenched his jaw.

“Fuck you!” he said, his irritation reaching a peak. Gino flicked the safety of his gun off. Blitzø shot him a glare.

“This…I fear I’m not understanding what’s happening here,” Stolas said, hesitant.

“Pardon me, how rude,” the doctor said. “Let me explain. You’re about to become the new patron of my…business." He grinned wider. “We’re going to sign a little contract, and in return, I’ll make sure that your imp pet won’t become a bloody stain on this concrete. How does that sound?”

“Don’t listen to him, birdie! Just hang up the phone and –!” Gino whacked him in the side of the head with his gun, and Blitzø let out a cry of pain as he blacked out for a moment. His body was limp, the only thing keeping him propped up was Finn’s hold on him from behind.

“Blitzø!” Stolas said, voice panicked. Blitzø spit out another mouthful of blood, feeling woozy.

“Your pet puts up quite a fight,” the doctor said into the phone. “He seems more trouble than he’s worth, but maybe you find it entertaining, your highness. So how about it? Do we have a deal?”

“If you lay a finger on Blitzø I swear to Lucifer –” Stolas said, tone icy and severe. Blitzø’s eyes widened. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever heard Stolas use that tone before. In either timeline.

“I’ll reach out to my assistant and they’ll send you the contract,” the doctor said, unfazed. “Once I get confirmation that it’s signed, I’ll let him go. Simple.” There was a long pause over the phone. “Unless you agree that he’s not worth the trouble –”

“No!” Stolas said quickly. “I mean, yes! Fine! I’ll do it! Just…please don’t hurt him.”  

“Don’t. Stolas,” Blitzø said weakly, his head hanging. He was finding it hard to stay conscious. He doubted Stolas could hear him.

“Excellent! It’s great doing business with you!” the doctor moved to hang up the phone.

“Wait! Blitzø! I want to –!” Stolas began, but the doctor hung up.

“See? I knew you had a use after all,” the doctor said, sounding pleased. Blitzø’s vision was going in and out. Dammit. He did it again. He put Stolas in the middle of one of his messes. Now Stolas was gonna be forced into a new fucked contract. What if word got out? Would Stolas be punished? Would he lose everything? What would Octavia think? Blitzø squeezed his eyes shut, thoughts jumbled and head pounding.

Stolas should’ve just hung up. He should’ve forgotten about Blitzø. He’d be better off. He’d be better off if he never met Blitzø at all. He could feel himself losing consciousness, head lolling and body feeling impossibly heavy.

Then the big shark-demon’s grip on him suddenly slackened. Blitzø found himself falling forward, face hitting the wet concrete.

“Oh crumbs!” Moxxie voice could be heard from somewhere above. “Millie!”

“On it!” Millie’s voice came from somewhere closer. Blitzø used all his strength to turn his face, and he watched with wide eyes as Millie was fighting with the lanky shark-demon, dodging his bullets as she closed in on him, brandishing her knife. Her expression was vicious. The big shark-demon - what was his name again? - was on the ground next to Blitzø, blood coming out of his stomach. Blitzø looked up to see Moxxie peeking through one of the holes in the roof.

“Shit! Sir!” Blitzø watched as Moxxie scrambled to make his way down. Was he hallucinating? He looked up at the ceiling, vision blurry, blackness creeping around the edges. His ribs hurt. His head hurt. His lungs hurt. Damn. He was such a weak bitch.

“Sir!” Moxxie said, kneeling over him now. “Can you hear me?”

“Y-yeah, I can hear ya, Moxx,” Blitzø said, voice weak. He put a hand on his forehead. Maybe if he applied enough pressure it’d stop feeling like it was about to burst open. Moxxie moved him into a sitting position, looking over his body to check for serious injuries. Then he untied Blitzø‘s legs. Blitzø winced, biting back the pain. He refused to act like some damsel. He was the boss, for fuck’s sake. It was embarrassing enough that he got himself kidnapped.

“Hey, you look a lot like my boss!” the big shark-demon said, sitting up and clutching his side as he stared at Moxxie, blood seeping through his fingers. The shark-demon's eyes widened. “He has a son, doesn’t he –?”

“SHUT UP NO HE DOESN’T!” Moxxie interrupted quickly, pulling a large throwing star out from who-the-fuck knew where and flinging it at the demon. It lodged into his skull and the big guy fell backwards dead.

“Damn, Moxxie.” Blitzø couldn't help but be impressed.

“Pay him no mind, sir,” Moxxie said in a rush, sounding nervous. “I have no idea what he was talking about –”

‘Yeah, sure ya don’t,’ Blitzø thought to himself, but he held his tongue. He wasn’t supposed to know about Moxxie’s mafia boss dad quite yet. Blitzø looked over to see Millie on Gino’s shoulders. Her knife and his gun were on the ground out of reach. Millie was trying to claw his eyes out and he was struggling to get her off of him.

“CrUumbs!” Blitzø whipped his head to see the doctor yank Moxxie away from Blitzø, tossing him with enough force that he skidded across the wet floor.

“Didn’t expect your employees to find you so fast,” the doctor admitted, a big-ass needle in his hand as he loomed over Blitzø. The barrel was full of a nasty-looking, neon-green liquid. “But that’s fine. I’m a genius. I have a million back-up plans.” He quickly grabbed Blitzø’s arm. “I have a feeling your favorite prince will be inclined to keep my business going if you’re hooked on this, too. Withdrawals are a real bitch. Some imps have died trying.”

Blitzø couldn’t help but laugh. His chest hurt like hell when he did it, though. Maybe him and Barb could bunk together in rehab. He imagined how pissed she’d be. Better than sharing a tombstone, at least.

“Stop!” Moxxie said, back on his feet and running over. He reached into his jacket but the doctor was a second faster, pulling a gun out of his coat pocket and pointing it at Moxxie. Moxxie hesitated, a wild look his eyes. Millie was still fighting that other asshole. Blitzø was shocked he hadn’t passed out yet.

But his ass wasn’t down yet, and Moxxie’s expression made his instincts kick in. He used the strength he had left, running on pure adrenaline, to kick the hand closest to him, the one holding the needle. It fell to the ground, shattering. He would’ve rather gotten the gun out of play, not wanting Moxxie in the line of fire, but he’d take what he could get at this point.

But that problem fixed itself, cuz the doctor turned his gun on Blitzø, eyes filled with malice.

“Fine. I tried being nice –”

“This’s your version of nice?” Blitzø asked, letting out another weak laugh. “Fuck I feel bad for your patients –” the doctor let out a bleat of rage.

“You’re so fucking annoying!”

“Ha! You sound like my daughter!” Blitzø shot back. He hoped she was somewhere safe, somewhere far away from here. Loona totally called it this morning. Today was a shit-show.

The doctor flicked off the safety of his gun.

“Blitzø!” Millie yelled from somewhere behind him.

“Stop, please!” Moxxie called out.

As if the world was suddenly in slow-motion, Blitzø watched as the doctor aimed the gun right between his eyes. Was this really it? He remembered feeling a similar way when he was about to get his head chopped off. A deep dread. A stab of fear. A wave of regret. He hoped Stolas actually did hear him say his name. At the same time, he hoped Stolas would forget about him and move on with his life. They'd only spent two days together, after all.

Then a blood-red feather landed on Blitzø’s nose.

And the sky turned black.

Chapter Text

It would take a fuck-ton for Stolas to go on the offensive.

That’s what Blitzø had thought back at the diner. He’d seen Stolas pissed before, he’d seen Stolas put on a big bad (hot) royal persona to save Blitzø’s stupid ass more than once, but Stolas and violence never really mixed. Stolas and confrontation never really mixed.

Blitzø found his passive energy confusing-as-fuck at first, because conflict was about as routine as breathing in his own life. It gave him simple rules to follow.

If he couldn’t hit first, he hit harder.

Even when he knew he couldn’t win, he’d go down swinging and biting fuckers.

He wasn’t above playing dirty. Or playing ‘dirty’ if he was horny enough.

But Stolas didn’t hit at all. Even worse, sometimes he’d just take the beating. All that power and he did jack-shit with it.

He let a low-life like Blitzø insult the fuck outta him in his own palace. He let Satan strip him of his status, pretending to be guilty of some theatrical scheme he made up on the spot. And Blitzø was only now beginning to understand his shithole of a ‘marriage’ –

Fine. That’s who Stolas was. But why? Why didn’t Stolas fight back? Why didn’t he care what happened to him? It didn’t just confuse Blitzø, it began to really piss him off. And recently, with the Stolas he left in the future, it’d been worrying him.

But now, Blitzø looked up to see Stolas standing between him and the doctor, a shield of stars and space shifting across his outstretched hands. He was wearing one of his royal outfits – red tunic and gold buttons, beige pants, crowned hat, cape with the fur trim. The whole shebang. Black, shadowy magic crackled around him menacingly, cape flapping from the intense energy that was forming around him. Feathers danced, gray and red, as if Stolas was on the verge of transforming.

He watched as Stolas threw the magical shield behind him, creating a wall in front of Blitzø. Now the smoking gun was aimed at Stolas.

Blitzø’s heart plummeted, panic gripping at his throat as he was hit with a wave of déjà vu, past and future melding together.

Not again.

He scrambled to stand, ready to side-step the magic shield and throw himself in front of Stolas, maybe even tackle the doctor to the ground if he could manage it. But then pain suddenly lanced across his side.

He fell to one knee, a palm pressed into the wet concrete and the other clutching his side. It didn’t take long to realize that the hand clutching his side felt wet too. And warm. Then he realized why the doctor’s gun was smoking.

“Shit,” he cursed under his breath, feeling a fresh wave of dizziness that he stubbornly fought against.

He removed his hand from his side, glancing down at his palm. It was covered in fresh blood. Not enough to start freaking the fuck out, but this asswipe managed to get a shot off, the bullet having grazed Blitzø’s torso, right under his ribs. His shit luck was as reliable as ever. But at least the bullet didn’t blast through his skull.

He had a feeling he had Stolas’ sudden appearance to thank for that.

Stolas’ head quickly turned to look at him, body still facing the doctor. The magical shield continued to shift between them, but Blitzø could see the bird’s worried expression through the translucent, sparkling haze. He watched as Stolas seemed to focus on Blitzø’s hand, red, pupilless eyes narrowing. Then all four eyes widened, glowing menacingly as he snapped his head to look back at the doctor.

“I warned you not to hurt my Blitzy,” he said, slowing lifting off the ground, the dark, magic energy swirling around him somehow getting even more intense and wild as it filled the warehouse.

“Blitzø!” Millie called out. Blitzø looked over to see her twist the neck of the lanky shark-demon, the fucker dropping to the ground. Then she scooped up her knife, running over to him.

Moxxie tried to get to him, too, looking panicked-as-hell as he kept glancing at this royal demon who suddenly showed up, but then Stolas shifted into his eldritch form, flapping his large wings and blowing everyone away from Blitzø.

Blitzø looked up at the massive, black and red-tinged owl looming over him. It let out a screeching cry, snapping its beak menacingly as its talons made deep gashes in the concrete, which really didn’t help with Blitzø’s splitting headache. Then before Blitzø or anyone else could get a word in, the owl unhinged its jaws and swooped towards the doctor.

It was like watching an apex predator descending on its prey. Vicious. Inevitable.

“NO! P-PLEASE!” the doctor begged, dropping the smoking gun as he threw his arms over his head, cowering. But it was too late. Feathers, blood, and shadows filled Blitzø’s vision, a flurry of chaos and violence. Somehow the bubblegum pink sky peeking through the holes in the roof was dark and menacing, sucked of any saturation. The air smelled metallic, like the promise of an incoming storm.

But clearly the storm was already here.

So maybe it was the blood.

Stolas said he hoped Blitzø would see a fighter in him. And boy did the truth finally get through Blitzø’s thick skull now. Watching Stolas, all ferocity and whirling talons and snapping jaws, he realized that Stolas was a fighter. This Stolas, and the one he knew from his timeline.

Sure, his bird didn’t always fight in the most obvious way, or as often, but that didn’t mean he had no fight in him at all. He just had his own set of rules.

He switched to the offensive when there was no other choice. When it really mattered.

Maybe…when it was for someone who mattered.

Blitzø was still struggling to believe that he could be someone who mattered this much to a prince. To Stolas. But in this moment, a hopeful part of him was starting to believe it.

And if that really was the reason why Stolas was here – if Stolas was the type to fight not for his own sake, but for someone else’s? It was an instinct Blitzø could understand.

And yet this overdue understanding left an ache that hurt more than the pain in his side. The pounding in his head. The bruise on his ribs.

Because it was supposed to be the other way around. Blitzø was the one who belonged on the front lines.

Stolas wanted Blitzø to see a fighter in him? For Blitzø, fighting was the only thing in him. The only thing worth something. The only thing he could offer.

And yet the ache was as sweet as it was bitter. Because as easily as Stolas’ talons had ripped into the concrete, this bird had unearthed a childish, buried feeling in Blitzø as well. A feeling he’d stubbornly pushed so far down over the years he forgot it existed. A feeling he'd had ever since…ever since he lost Mom. When things had gotten even worse with his dickbag Dad.

Not even a feeling, really, but a question –

Would anyone be willing to put themselves between Blitzø and a raised fist?

“Oh shit!” Millie said from a distance, and Blitzø was pulled from his thoughts, watching as Stolas reverted back to his usual form, feathers floating lazily to the ground, sky clearing to reveal shades of pink again.

The doctor was gone. Not a trace of him was left. Not even a speck of blood on the concrete. Just his gun and Blitzø’s phone lay abandoned on the ground. Oh shit was right.

Stolas’ fists were clenched, his shoulders shaking in rage as he took deep breaths. Then he turned to face Blitzø, a wild look in his eyes. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Blitzø blurted out, shaking his head in disbelief, still reeling from this crazy-ass day. When was he gonna get a nice, boring day in the past? Sleep in, grab a coffee from his favorite place that closed down in the future, watch TV on the couch?

Stolas hurried to kneel next to him, gently grabbing the hand that had blood on it and quickly looking at the side where the bullet grazed him.

“I could say the same thing!” Stolas said, brushing his talons against the wound as he inspected it. Blitzø hissed, swatting his hand away on instinct. “Sorry!” Stolas said, immediately pulling his hand away. “I just…how bad are your injuries? I could use my magic, but it would probably be more prudent to take you to the hospital…”

“Who’re you callin’ a prude?” Blitzø asked, feeling woozy as he pouted at Stolas. Stolas let out a laugh, then quickly covered it with his hand, expression going back to being serious.

“No one, darling, but I must say I’m still trying to get my bearings here,” he confessed, dropping his hand.

“M’not a bear either, but I am rugged,” Blitzø offered with a cheesy smile. Cracking jokes was helping him ignore the way he got the shit kicked outta him. The pain and the embarrassment. Stolas let out an exasperated sigh, biting back his grin.

Stolas’ smile helped, too.

“Sir!” Moxxie said, rushing over from where he’d been blown to the other end of the warehouse. Stolas turned his head around, magic cracking dangerously around him again. Blitzø quickly reached to grab his hand, giving it a squeeze.

“He’s with me, birdie,” Blitzø said gently. Stolas whipped his head back to look at him, raising a brow.

“Oh?” Stolas questioned, but before Blitzø could ask him what the fuck that reaction was about, Moxxie put a hand on Blitzø shoulder, looking at where the blood was seeping through his jacket.

“We need to get you to a hospital!” Moxxie said, panicking. Millie joined them a second later, holding out Blitzø’s phone. Blitzø took it, slipping it in his pocket.

“Thanks Mills.” She gave him a nod, and then gave him a pointed look, glancing down at where Blitzø’s hand was holding Stolas’ before raising a brow at him. Clearly she was gonna make him explain this later. Damn. Blitzø sighed, but he gave her the smallest of nods. Satisfied, she handed the doctor’s gun over to Moxxie. Moxxie’s expression lit up, momentarily distracted as he inspected the gun

“Moxxie’s right. You look like shit, Blitzø,” she agreed. Moxxie’s stashed the gun in his coat.

“Let’s be grateful you don’t look dead, sir,” Moxxie added. He also clocked the way Blitzø was holding Stolas’ hand. Blitzø finally pulled his hand away, feeling self-conscious. Then Moxxie gave Stolas a side-eye, looking wary. “Uhhh, thank you for saving our boss…um, your highness?”

“Someone had to,” Stolas said, voice thick with pettiness as he gave Moxxie a suspicious once-over. Moxxie rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. Millie’s eyes narrowed a fraction as she readjusted the grip on her knife.

“How’d you even find me?” Blitzø asked, trying to steam-roll over the obvious tension brewing. Stolas shifted his attention back to Blitzø.

“I told him,” Loona said, beating Stolas to the explanation. Blitzø turned as much as he could to see Loona standing a few feet away from them all, inspecting her claws.

“Where’d you come from?” Blitzø asked. Loona rolled her eyes.

“I was staying out of the way like you wanted me to.” He gave her a nod, happy that she didn’t put herself in danger. “Anyway, I got a call from Octavia, and it was this guy freaking out,” she explained, nodding at Stolas. Now it was his turn to look sheepish. “It was good timing. We just found you, and these two were getting in position to ambush these fuckers,” she added, nodding at the dead shark-demons.

“Yeeeeah, speaking of these fuckers,” Blitzø said, shooting a glance at Moxxie. He just couldn’t resist. “The big one thought you looked familiar. What was that about?” He blinked at him, putting on an innocent expression.

“I-I have absolutely no idea, sir!” Moxxie said, voice strained. “I guess I, uh, have a look-a-like running around somewhere!” He let out a nervous laugh.

“Well he can’t be as handsome as you, honey,” Millie said, giving Moxxie a wink. “I saw the way you lodged that throwing star into that shark-demon’s skull. That was sexy.” Moxxie blushed, giving her a smile. Blitzø resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

And Stolas said he was a bad liar. He looked over at Stolas to see him looking at Moxxie and Millie in confusion. Then the bird glanced at Blitzø, looking surprised to see that Blitzø was already looking at him.

“I would like to know how this situation even came to be,” Stolas admitted, clearing his throat. “I was hoping that we would see each other again soon, Blitzy, but certainly not under these conditions…” Millie and Moxxie shared a look at the use of ‘Blitzy’.

“We went by that pharmacy you mentioned, but then we couldn’t find you,” Millie explained, shifting her attention to Blitzø. Moxxie nodded.

“We tried calling but you weren’t picking up,” he added. “That’s when we realized something must’ve happened.” Stolas let out a small, displeased squawk.

“I don’t understand how you littler ones let him get captured!” he said, turning on them as he waved his arms in exasperation, still kneeling on the ground. But even kneeling on the ground he was taller than them all. “And even worse, that you took so long to find him! Things could have ended much differently if I didn’t get here in time!”

Moxxie and Millie were clearly upset, but they also knew better than to talk back to a royal. And Blitzø knew that Stolas wasn’t thinking about this imbalance as he scolded them.

“Well things are fine so cool the brakes on making my employees feel shitty.” Blitzø moved to his feet, wincing as he did so. Moxxie hurried to support him, slinging Blitzø’s arm around his shoulders. Blitzø gave him a grateful smile, which Moxxie looked surprised by. Stolas looked between the two of them, frowning.

“You should have higher expectations for your employees, Blitzy,” Stolas argued, gesturing at Moxxie. “A job comes with a certain set of responsibilities, and when you don’t meet those responsibilities there are consequences –”

“They’re also my family, and family’s allowed to fuck up sometimes,” Blitzø argued, tone firm. Stolas’ eyes widened a fraction. So did everyone else’s. Blitzø sighed. His body felt like lead. His head was still pounding. He forced himself to look at Stolas. “They found me. They did their best. And you were here too, thanks to them, even though you didn’t have to be…” Stolas let out an incredulous laugh.

“Did you really think that I would listen to you in pain, listen to someone threaten your life, and not try to find you as quickly as possible?” he asked, shaking his head in disbelief. Millie looked between the two of them in interest, clearly trying to figure out in real time what was going on here.

“I…” Blitzø began. No. He knew from experience that Stolas was the type of idiot who’d come to his rescue, even when he didn’t deserve it. It was the fact that it was undeserved that was the issue, cuz what could he possibly offer Stolas in return for saving his life?

This was the same problem he’d been struggling with in the future. In the future he saved Stolas’ life in return, but it still didn’t feel like enough. Because Stolas hadn’t just saved Blitzø’s life, he’d ruined his own. How could Blitzø possibly make up for that? He couldn’t, as much as he’d been trying.

And now Stolas was sticking his feathery neck out for him again. As much as everything was going differently this time around, some things were still the exact fucking same. It was frustrating, and nerve-wracking, and –

“Sir?” Moxxie asked, concern in his voice. Blitzø opened his mouth to respond, to tell Moxxie to wipe that worried expression off his stupid face, but then he was sucker-punched with another wave of vertigo. It was like the world was turning upside down, a fuzzy blackness appearing on the edges of his vision, and the last thing he saw was Stolas’ startled expression before everything went black.

When Blitzø opened his eyes he saw an unfamiliar magenta ceiling. He crinkled his nose at the smell of antiseptic. He felt something weird on his arm. He sat up in bed, blinking away the bleariness to see that he was hooked up to an IV. He quickly ripped it out of his arm, throwing it off the bed. It stung like a motherfucker and some random machine started beeping. Ugh. He hated hospitals. Then he noticed he wasn’t alone.

Stolas was sitting in a chair next to him, resting his head on the bed, arms crossed under his head and cheek squished adorably. Blitzø’s gaze roamed over the bird’s sleeping expression, his initial panic easing as he watched the slow rise and fall of Stolas’ chest. He exhaled, looking around.

He was in some fancy-ass private room he knew for a fact he couldn’t afford, which didn’t help with his instinct to get the fuck outta here.

He was reminded of when he saw Stolas getting rushed into the hospital, the day he found out that his bird wasn’t as invincible as he thought. He thought about the time he tried to visit Fizz in the hospital, and how he was told to fuck off even though Fizz apparently wanted him there.

He reached for the skull pendant on his neck, but he was grasping at air. He furrowed his brow, panic rising again as he looked down. That’s when he realized he was in a hospital gown. Fuck that. He carefully pushed the blanket off of him, trying not to wake Stolas. He’d always been a pretty deep sleeper, though. He looked at Stolas’ face again. His beak was parted slightly. Blitzø could hear his quiet hoots. His crowned hat was resting on a side table in the corner of the room.

Blitzø had to fight the urge to run a hand through his headfeathers, smoothing them over. He carefully moved his legs over the side of the bed, opposite where Stolas was sleeping. As he shifted, he felt a stab of pain and let out a hiss. He placed his hand on his side, feeling thick bandages under the hospital gown. Damn. At least his headache had gone away. But the rest of his body felt like actual shit.

“Blitzø?” Blitzø turned to see Stolas looking at him from where he was resting, blinking at him sleepily. Then he quickly shot up, looking Blitzø over from where he was sitting. “How are you feeling?” Blitzø threw his legs back on the bed as he moved to face Stolas. So much for not waking him up. He shrugged.

“I feel great.” Stolas gave him a skeptical look. Then he noticed Blitzø’s IV on the floor. The machine was still beeping insistently. Stolas waved his hand, using his magic to levitate the IV as he pouted at Blitzø.

“Why did you take this out? The nurse said that you need vitamins!” Blitzø waved him off.

“I’m fine. I could run a marathon.” He gave Stolas a flirty look, shooting him a grin. “I could do all sorts-a marathons right now. I got a whoooole lotta stamina.” He caught Stolas’ flustered expression and felt a wave of satisfaction.

“Did you even sleep when you returned home?” Stolas pressed, the IV floating to rest on the bed. Blitzø shrugged again.

“Yeah.”

“Oh? How many hours?” Stolas asked, raising a brow. Clearly he wasn’t convinced. Blitzø wouldn’t meet his probing gaze.

“Uhh, enough…” he said weakly. Stolas scoffed, clicking his beak as he shook his head.

“You scared the shit out of me, Blitzy,” Stolas confessed, grabbing the railing running along the side of the bed as he leaned forward. “You could’ve died –”

“I’ve been in much tougher scrapes, believe me,” Blitzø assured him. Stolas didn’t look comforted by that. “This body can withstand a lot,” he added, another flirty remark as he ran the tip of his tail along Stolas’ arm. Stolas shivered, feathers puffing out slightly.

“I would prefer to witness that under…different circumstances,” Stolas admitted, cheeks pink as his gaze slipped away bashfully. His honesty made Blitzø own cheeks warm. Then Stolas let out a hollow laugh, shaking his head. “I truly don’t know what came over me. I never…I saw you, and how that baphomet was pointing a gun at you and I just got so…I…” Stolas tried to explain, fidgeting with his hands. Blitzø reached over to grab them.

“Hey, I’m fine, really,” Blitzø promised, tone gentle. “Thanks for saving my ass, by the way.”

“Of course,” Stolas said as if what he did was nothing. “I apologize for not being there sooner, for not blocking that bullet entirely – I should’ve been faster –”

“Don’t beat yourself up, big bird. It’s barely a scratch.” Stolas let out an incredulous laugh.

“Hardly. You passed out because you lost so much blood.” There was worry in his frown. He looked over Blitzø again as if he was about to collapse at any moment.

This version of Stolas – Blitzø had forgotten just how unstoppable he was. Sure, okay, not invincible, but he still had his magic. He could still turn into a big scary bird and eat fuckers, apparently. This Stolas didn’t need Blitzø to keep him safe. If anything, Blitzø clearly needed him. It was an uncomfortable feeling.

“Look who’s awake!” Blitzø shifted his attention to see Millie entering the room, Loona and Moxxie with her. Blitzø clocked what Moxxie was holding. His hands slipped from Stolas’.

“Did you get me a fucking balloon?” he asked, looking at the pink balloon with the words ‘Get Better Soon’ on it in fancy letters. The three of them joined Blitzø and Stolas, standing around his bed. Moxxie placed the balloon on the ground near Blitzø, the balloon bobbing as it floated in the air, held down by a weighted purple ribbon. Christ on a stick. “Wow, Moxx. Kiss my ass any harder and you’ll go right inside me.” Moxxie’s eyes widened. So did Stolas’.

“Sir! That is hardly appropriate –!” then Moxxie cut himself off, letting out a sigh. “We’ve had some close calls before, but that was closer than usual, sir. If I was faster, if I hadn’t gotten distracted, I could’ve –” Blitzø glanced at Stolas before looking at Moxxie. These two could be pretty fucking similar sometimes.

“And if they didn’t get the drop on me then you wouldn’t’ve needed to find my stupid ass in the first place,” Blitzø pointed out. “It was amateur hour today, but we’ll do better next time,” he reasoned with a shrug. Moxxie looked at him in surprise, as if he'd turned into some kinda dick-riding cherub. The fuck? Blitzø could be understanding when he felt like it!

“Leave it to the dumbass twins to fuck up a simple job,” Loona mumbled, looking between them. Blitzø noticed her glance at the IV, squirming at the sight of the needle on the bed. He covered it with his blanket and Loona met his gaze, looking surprised herself. But also grateful. Then she crossed her arms, determinedly looking away.

"Hey, at least we killed a few fuckers!” Millie offered. “We need to stay positive! Being all down in the dumps helps nobody!” She put her hands on her hips, a wide smile on her face. “Besides, you look right as rain, Blitzø, just as I expected. That’s why you’re the boss!”

“Heh. You got that fuckin’ right.” He held out a fist and Millie gave it an enthusiastic tap, hard enough that Blitzø shook his hand and laughed. “Now let’s get the fuck outta here before they stick us with the bill. I definitely don’t have health insurance.” The past version of him didn’t even know what health insurance was at this point.

“I stole those guys’ wallets before we brought your unconscious ass here,” Loona said with a shrug. “I haven’t checked yet, but maybe they had enough cash on ‘em.” Blitzø’s eyes widened, his tail whishing happily.

“You’re so smart Loonie-Toonieeee,” he cooed, feeling a warm sense of pride. Stolas tilted his head in confusion.

“Is this what demons do when they’re poor?” he asked. “Take wallets off of corpses?”

“Not like they need ‘em anymore,” Blitzø reasoned. Moxxie grimaced. Loona nodded. Stolas hummed thoughtfully, then shook his head.

“Either way, the hospital expenses have already been taken care of.” Blitzø watched as he moved to stand, clasping his hands in front of him.

“You didn’t have to –” Blitzø began, but Stolas held up a hand to stop him.

“I wanted to,” he corrected. Blitzø let out an exasperated huff. Then he swung his legs over the side of the bed, ignoring the sting of pain in his side as hopped off. He stretched, his back stiff. Everything felt stiff. Well, almost everything. He rested a hand on his bandage, thinking about how hot and heavy it got last night in that bar bathroom. Unfortunately the only blood flow he was experiencing today was the blood flowing out of his body.

“Fine, but I still wanna get outta here," he decided. "The guy who shot me was a doctor, remember? And now we’re in a hospital. Who knows if he has any goons creepin’ around here.” He looked around the room, hands on his hips. “Now where’re my clothes?”

“The torn and bloody ones?” Loona asked, raising a brow. Then she nodded at a chair in the corner, where his clothes were folded neatly. “They tried to take 'em, but I knew you’d have a bitch fit so I put them over there.”

“You’re on a roll today, Loonie, like alwaaaaayss,” Blitzø said, hurrying over to the chair. He shrugged off his hospital gown impatiently, letting it fall to the floor.

“Sir!” Moxxie protested. Blitzø turned to see Moxxie covering his eyes. Millie laughed and Moxxie held out a hand to cover her eyes, too. Loona looked away, letting out a scoff.

“I’m gonna go smoke. Lemme know where you’re ready to go,” she said, and with that Loona left the room.

“What? It’s not like my dick’s out! Blitzø protested. He was still in his underwear. “Bet ya secretly wish it was though, Moxx. You perv.” Moxxie uncovered his eyes to shoot him an unamused look, dropping his hand from Millie’s face. Blitzø grinned. Then he noticed the way Stolas was openly looking at him, pretty face flushed and beak parted as he gawked. Blitzø flicked his tail, pleased. Then he gave Stolas a wink, flexing a little, and Stolas cleared his throat, tugging at his collar as his gaze finally slipped away. Blitzø turned, bending down to pick up his clothes. He had a feeling Stolas’ eyes hadn’t stayed off of him for long.

Then his own eyes widened when he saw a note at the top of the pile. There was a hastily scrawled message. He looked over to see that the window was open just a crack, a slight breeze blowing through. Then he looked back down at the note. The handwriting was achingly familiar.

Heard wat happened. Soz. Going back 2 rehab. Dont visit.

A lot of emotions hit him at once, too many to untangle right now. Barbie snuck in and left him a note. How’d she hear about what happened? He couldn’t even message her to ask. He let out a sigh. He just hoped pussy lips and her taser would keep his sister safe. And maybe, if he played his cards right this time, he could convince Barbie to let him see her again. To catch up properly.

“Blitzø?” Millie asked. Blitzø slipped the note into the pocket of his jacket and turned to face her, still in his underwear. “You good? Want me to grab a new set-a clothes –?”

“Nah, I’m good,” he assured her.

“Hold on,” Moxxie said suddenly, moving to approach Blitzø. His brow was furrowed, gaze focused on Blitzø’s chest.

“Ohhhh so you do wanna see my dick –” Blitzø began to joke. Moxxie poked him in the shoulder.

“Since when did you have a scar there?” Moxxie asked, confused. “It doesn’t look new enough that you got it today. Or even recently.” Damn. It was from that nightmare of a job when he got shot by that whore mother.

“What? You been keepin’ tabs on my scars?” Blitzø asked, deflecting. Moxxie rolled his eyes.

“You don’t remember that one day in prison when you told me about every single scar you had in detail? You’re an oversharer, sir.”

“I got bored and was lying that whole time,” Blitzø shot back. “You’re gullible, Moxx.” Moxxie let out an exasperated huff.

“Well you can’t lie about the things I can clearly see,” he replied stubbornly. Then he glanced down, grabbing Blitzø’s wrist. “This one looks new, but when’d you get bitten? Looks too small to be from one of those shark-demons…” Now Moxxie was asking him about the rat bite he’d gotten. Shit. Blitzø noticed the side-eye Millie was giving Stolas. Then she looked at Blitzø, waggling her eyebrows.

“This bite has teeth marks, bitch, so get your mind outta the gutter,” Blitzø told her, pulling his hand out of Moxxie’s baby grip. Millie hid a teasing grin behind her hand, rocking on her heels. Stolas looked at them all in confusion.

“Could it have been from another job?” Stolas offered. Then his eyes lit up. “Perhaps one of your recent jobs in the living world?”

Ah shit.

Blitzø felt Millie and Moxxie’s eyes on him, but he stubbornly ignored their gazes.

“Ha! Maybe! Any plants have teeth? Coulda been that,” he suggested, trying to distract Stolas with plant facts before he said anything else that incriminated Blitzø in front of M&M.

When Blitzø had explained his whole business to Stolas at the diner, that’d been before he knew he was in the past. When he figured out he was in the past, he’d been a lot more careful. His story became airtight. No flaws.

Ha…yeah.

“In the living world?” Stolas mused, furrowing his brow thoughtfully as he tapped a talon to his chin. “There are certain plants with tooth-like features, but none that have the kind of mammalian teeth that would produce such a bite mark,” he explained, nodding at Blitzø’s wrist. “Regardless, I do think that you should be more selective about your jobs, Blitzy. This one seemed…quite messy. Loona told me that you were meant to kill someone involved in some kind of drug turf war? I admittedly know little about that type of, ahem, business, myself, but I have heard that the demons involved are quite ruthless.”

“Money is money,” Blitzø said with a shrug. “And we’re assassins. You’re acting like I’m soma kinda helpless bitch,” he pointed out, pride stinging a little. “Trust me, big bird, what you saw today ain’t typical. I’m really fucking good at my job.”

“I have no doubt that you’re good at a lot of things!” Stolas assured him, clearly genuine. Blitzø caught his not-so-subtle once-over, the bird’s gaze lingering on his chest. And maybe the bird was a little horny. Hey, Blitzø would gladly work with horny, especially if it stopped Stolas from asking any more damning questions –

“What I meant to say is that you can afford to be choosy, yes?” Stolas continued. “Since you have so many clients at the moment.”

Dammit.

The feeling of Millie and Moxxie’s gazes got even more intense. Blitzø flicked his tail nervously, still stubbornly refusing to look at them.

“Riiiiiight. I did tell you that…” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Showing off that great memory again, eh?” Stolas tilted his head, giving him a curious look. Blitzø could tell that he was beginning to notice that something was off. Shit.

Then there was the sound of a phone ringing. Thank fuck.

“Oh! That’s me!” Stolas said, pulling out his phone. He checked the caller ID and smiled at his phone screen. “It’s Octavia.” He looked up at Blitzø, giving him a small smile. “I’ll be right back!”

“Take your time, birdie,” Blitzø said, giving him a wink. “And thanks for being here when I woke up.” He stretched his arms, muscles still sore but feeling a smidge better. Getting some decent sleep probably helped.

“Abs…” Stolas trailed off, looking at Blitzø distractedly. Blitzø bit back his grin. Was Stolas blatantly checking him out again? He wasn’t mad about it. Quite the opposite. “…solutely!” Stolas finally finished, blinking rapidly, his cheeks pinker than they were moments before. Blitzø couldn’t help his fond smile as he watched Stolas hurry out of the room, pressing his phone to his ear. “V-Via! How are you, dearest –?

“Blitzø…” Millie began, and Blitzø winced. Right. Time for an annoying-ass interrogation.

“Sir, what in Satan’s name is going on?” Moxxie finished, waving his hands around, obviously exasperated. Millie nodded as if Moxxie took the words out of her mouth. “Why did a prince show up at our job?”

“I told ya I did that bodyguarding thing yesterday…” Blitzø began. Millie put a hand on her hip.

“Oh yeah? And was guardin’ the only thing you were doin’ with that prince’s body?” she asked, half-skeptical, half-teasing. Blitzø grabbed his jacket, putting it on.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, perv number dos,” he shot back, stepping into the legs of his pants and hopping around as he struggled to put them on.

“And what was that about having tons of clients and going to the living world?” Moxxie asked. “If you forgot, sir, we haven’t started doing that yet.”

“And you mentioned yesterday how you just got somethin’ that’d get us to the livin’ world,” Millie added, glancing at the crystal on Blitzø’s wrist. “What? You have a concussion after all? Or did ya sneak over there yesterday without tellin’ us to do some kinda solo job?'

“As much as I love a solo job,” Blitzø said, pumping his hand and shooting Moxxie a grin, who crinkled up his nose in disgust, “that isn't what went down. I just might’ve…exaggerated a little. Said some things in the present tense that’re more of a future tense kinda deal.”

“So you lied to a prince to make yourself look more impressive,” Moxxie summarized, a deadpan expression on his face.

“I meeeaaan…is it a lie if it’s about to happen?” Blitzø asked with a shrug. He held out his turtleneck, assessing the damage. It had a tear in it and a large bloodstain. He shoved it in the pocket of his jacket. He could rock a no shirt, only jacket look. He sat down on the chair, moving to tug on his boots. Moxxie let out a sigh, shaking his head.

“C’mon B,” Millie urged. “Tell us what’s really goin’ on. You seem…off.”

“Maybe cuz I got shot today,” Blitzø offered. “But I feel as turned on as ever. If ya wanna test it out for yourself, the three of us could always…”

“I think he’s the same, Millie,” Moxxie interrupted. Blitzø looked up to see him rolling his eyes. Then Blitzø saw Millie’s expression – open and non-judgmental as she waited patiently. In that moment, Blitzø was struck by the temptation to tell her everything.

He’d been planning on telling Fizz when he first saw him at the plant shop, so why not Millie instead?

Not for the first time that day, he thought back to the job they did together at that hotel. Talking it out with her had really helped. But he also thought about how distant she’d gotten recently, back in the future. It was like she was holding something back, like there was suddenly a lot on her mind. Had he been leaning on her too much?

And this Millie still thought that he was bullet-proof. He rested his hand on his bandage. Maybe not bullet-proof anymore, not literally, at least. But she hadn’t seen Blitzø’s embarrassing-as-fuck break-down. Did he really wanna burst the bubble that was her high impression of him with no warning?

And he knew Moxxie would have a total freak-out if he found out that Blitzø was from the future, so there was no way he was telling his overdramatic ass –

“Blitzø?” Millie said again, tone gentle. Now Moxxie’s expression was curious, too, like he was beginning to wonder if something really was wrong after all. But nothing was wrong. Blitzø was handling things. If shit really went down, then he’d tell ‘em. He'd tell Millie, at least. He dug into his jacket pocket, feeling a flimsy paper rectangle. Fuck yeah. It hadn’t fallen out. He moved to stand.

“Gotta hole-puncher on ya?” he asked, pulling out the ‘Unconditional support’ card. He’d noticed it this morning, back in his apartment, and slipped it in his pocket just in case a moment like this happened. It only had one hole-punch, since he’d gotten it recently at this point.

Millie gave him a long look, seeming like she wanted to argue. Then she pulled out her knife.

“Woah woah woah this was your idea don’t blame me for using it –” Blitzø said in a rush as Millie approached him. She rolled her eyes, taking the card from him and using the tip of her knife to make a new hole. Then she handed it back over.

“Fine. Keep your secrets,” she said. Blitzø slipped the card back into his pocket. He felt a twinge of guilt, but not enough to change his mind.

“I’ve got things under control. Promise,” Blitzø said. “So just roll with it, ‘kay? And don’t get weird about me hanging out with a royal. It’s…a good thing,” he said vaguely. Millie sighed, giving him a nod. He looked past her at Moxxie, whose arms were crossed stubbornly.

“Can you at least tell me why his highness seems to hate my guts?” Moxxie asked. “Did you spread some kind of rumor about me? You know, sir, when you did that in prison a bunch of hellhounds tried to –” Blitzø laughed, expression brightening.

“Right! The three-holes incident,” he remembered, putting his hands on his hips. “Some of my best work. But nah, I didn’t tell him anything. Maybe he just doesn’t like your face?”

“Who couldn’t love this cutie-pie’s face?” Millie said, hurrying back to Moxxie and squishing his cheeks. She gave him a kiss and Moxxie blushed, moving to hold Millie’s hand.

“Thanks, honey.” Then he looked at Blitzø. “You’re sure that whatever you’re doing is a good idea?”

“Doesn’t matter when I have your unconditional suppoooooooooort,” Blitzø reminded him in a sing-song voice. Moxxie scoffed, but he didn’t argue. Then Stolas came back into the room.

“Ah. You’ve gotten dressed,” Stolas observed, looking at Blitzø. Did he look a little disappointed? Cute. “Mostly,” he added, nodding at how Blitzø was still shirtless under his jacket. Blitzø watched as Stolas hid an amused smile behind his hand.

“How’s the ‘ol daughter?” Blitzø asked, and Stolas dropped his hand, expression softening.

“She wanted to know why I was acting so, erm, urgently earlier when I was on the phone with Loona,” he explained. “Then she reminded me that I promised to give her a guitar lesson.”

“Guitar, eh? You must be pretty good at finger placements,” Blitzø said, shooting him a suggestive grin. Stolas' face flushed. Then he glanced at Millie and Moxxie, eyes widening a fraction when he saw them holding hands. He looked at Blitzø again, a question in his expression that left Blitzø confused, cuz he had no idea what that question could be.

“I’m…quite proficient,” Stolas finally said, a teasing edge to his smile as he looked at Blitzø. Then he clasped his hands in front of him. “How are you feeling? If you’re still unwell I can explain to Octavia that –”

“I’m all good, birdie, thanks to you and my team,” Blitzø assured him, looking over at Millie and Moxxie too.

“Your family, as you said earlier, sir,” Moxxie pointed out, giving Blitzø a shit-eating grin. “That was uncharacteristically sentimental of you –”

“Yeah yeah chalk it up to the blood loss,” Blitzø replied, waving him off. Fucking Moxxie.

“Hmm, well…” Stolas said, looking between Moxxie and Blitzø before his gaze settled on Blitzø once more. “The next time we meet, I hope it’s under less dangerous circumstances. Perhaps you could show me the office you were telling me about? I would love to see it! It’s quite uncommon for an imp to have their own office –”

“Almost unbelievable,” Moxxie interjected, giving Blitzø a pointed look. Millie jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow.

“We gotta honor the card, Moxx,” Millie said through her teeth as she smiled. “Remember what we get when it’s filled.” Stolas looked at them in confusion. “Don’t mind my husband, your highness!” Millie said cheerfully. “He can have a fuzzy head, and it makes him sound suspicious at the darndest times!” Moxxie nodded, finally keeping his mouth shut. Blitzø fought the urge to roll his eyes.

“You two are married?” Stolas asked, looking at the two of them in interest.

“Yes, your highness,” Moxxie said politely. He looked over at Millie, a dopey grin on his face. “I’m the luckiest imp in Hell.” Millie gave him a kiss on the cheek, rubbing her nose against his. Stolas glanced over at Blitzø. Then he cleared his throat.

“Ah, well, congratulations,” he said, still looking a little confused. “I should return to my daughter.” He hesitated, his attention fully on Blitzø now. “Are you certain that –?”

“I appreciate the concern, really, but I’m starting to think you actually think I’m pathetic,” Blitzø joked. But there was a note of honesty there. He could only take so many hits to his pride. Usually it’d tick him off enough that he’d start throwing jabs himself, but he knew Stolas meant well, so he was biting his tongue.

“Ah, apologies,” Stolas said with a wince. “I only…” he hesitated again. Then he glanced at Millie and Moxxie before looking back at Blitzø. “I will leave, then. I wish you a swift recovery.”

“Oh I recover fast,” Blitzø said, shooting him a wink. Stolas let out a fond scoff, giving him a nod. Blitzø watched as he used his magic to levitate his hat from where it was resting on the side table. He grabbed it and placed it primly on his head. Then he made a portal, giving Blitzø one last smile.

“I do hope to see you soon,” he confessed, tone gentle and sincere. Blitzø couldn’t help but smile back.

“You will,” he promised. Stolas’ smile grew wider, causing something to swoop in Blitzø's stomach. He watched as his bird stepped through the portal. Then the portal disappeared.

Blitzø exhaled, moving to sit. He was feeling better, but he definitely wasn’t at 100% yet. He needed a fat nap and a good meal. Maybe him and Loona could use the money from those dickbags’ wallets and order a big-ass pizza.

“An office, huh –?” Moxxie asked.

“Ya know, I saw those shark-demons at a bar last night,” Blitzø interrupted, putting on a nonchalant tone. Moxxie and Millie looked surprised at the sudden change of topic. “They were with this guy who really wanted to tap this ass. What was his name? Kaz? Baz? Oh yeah! Chaz,” he said, putting his fist in his open palm. He glanced up, seeing how Millie and Moxxie’s eyes widened. It took everything in him to keep his expression casual. “I’m surprised he didn’t show up, since his buddies were here. But hey, maybe he’s more of a lover than a fighter,” he finished with a shrug.

He felt a maniacal wave of satisfaction when he saw their expressions. They were really startin' to sweat.

“Anyway!” he said, moving to stand up again. He pulled out the ‘Unconditional support’ card, waving it in the air. “Any more stupid-ass questions, Moxx?”

“N-no, sir,” Moxxie stumbled out. Millie shook her head too. Blitzø grinned. Then he walked over to grab the balloon, holding it by its purple ribbon.

“Good. Let’s go grab Loona.” With that he walked out of the hospital room, trying his best not to burst out laughing.

He really took a beating today. A physical and an emotional one. That seemed to happen whenever he ran into Barbie, no matter which timeline his ass was in. He doubted it’d be the last. But at least he got to enjoy M&M’s expressions at the mention of that douche. Moxxie looked like he was about to shit himself.

"Uh, s-sir, did he, you know, tap that ass?" Moxxie asked after about 20 seconds of silence. He and Millie were following Blitzø as they headed down the hall. Guess Moxxie did have one more stupid question in him.

"Wouldn't you like to know, perv number one," Blitzø said over his shoulder. He snuck another look at their expressions as they turned the corner, both of them their own flavors of mortified. 

As much as today was a pretty big L, and the past two days had been a fucking rollercoaster, time travel could also be funny-as-fuck sometimes. It was important to appreciate the little victories.

Chapter Text

Stolas poked his fork at his nutritionally balanced breakfast, glancing over at the pale morning light coming through the large windows and into the dining room.

‘I wonder what Blitzy is up to now,’ he found himself thinking, not for the first time since he’d left him at the hospital. He hoped he was taking care of himself, that he got a good night’s rest. There were multiple occasions when he was tempted to message him and ask. In his braver moments he almost gave Blitzø a call, but then he would worry at his beak and put his phone away, not feeling quite brave enough.

He didn’t want to pester him while he was recovering. Blitzø always seemed to get a bit…well, squirmy when there was too much attention on himself, more specifically his needs. Stolas couldn’t understand why. There was a lot about Blitzy that he was still wrapping his head around. He felt heat rise in his cheeks. He began to imagine certain things he would like to wrap around Blitzy’s ‘head’.

‘Lucifer, I really need to get ahold of myself,’ he thought, trying to shift his thoughts to other, less erotic ideas. Trying to think about anything other than the feeling of Blitzø’s teeth at his neck, his hand on his thigh, his fingers rubbing up and down his –

No! Surely he had more self-control than this. They were friends, if he was bold enough to claim that much. And they had only just reunited. As much as his own desire was tipping him over the edge into impulsivity, he reminded himself of how thoughtful Blitzø had been the past two days. He wanted to be thoughtful as well. He wanted to consider Blitzø’s feelings, rather than hastily push forth his own. As hard as this approach was at times, his conviction was firm.

He rested his chin in his palm, letting out a drawn-out sigh. If Blitzy was here he would be making a funny joke about Stolas’ uses of ‘hard’ and ‘firm’.

“Stop making such pathetic noises!” His gaze flicked upwards to look at Stella, who was sitting at the other end of the long ornate dining table, picking at her own breakfast and glaring daggers at him. He’d forgotten she was here.

“I didn’t realize you could hear me from all the way over there,” Stolas said, his voice echoing off the high ceilings. “Who knew you were such a good listener,” he added, unable to keep the sarcasm out of his tone. Stella stabbed her fork down into her food.

“Did you just insult me, Sto-las?” she asked. “You’re one to talk. I had forbidden you from forcing Octavia to associate with vermin you found off the street, and yet you ignored me and whisked her off to do who knows what –”

“We were at an observatory, Stella,” Stolas interrupted, giving her a tired look as he continued to poke at his food. He didn’t have much of an appetite today. He found himself reminiscing about the brunch he had only two days ago. He remembered the way Blitzy held out a forkful of food, feeding him his first few delicious bites –

Stella slammed both hands down on the table and leaned forward.

“You weren’t just at an observa-whatever, though, were you?” she said, eyes narrowed. “I got a call from a friend explaining that you were spotted at some dingy diner, then in that elevator poor demons use, then at a back-alley plant shop, and then at a bar in Lust. All with the same nobody imp –”

“He’s an old friend, Stella!” Stolas protested, setting his fork down on the table. “And he was sent as a gift from my father, your father-in-law, may I remind you!” He let out a huff. “Honestly, have you resorted to stalking me now? Normally when royals are bored we use our overabundance of money to choose a respectable hobby –”

“Anyone in my position would be keeping tabs on their flighty, troublesome husband,” Stella shot back. “Did you even consider how you frolicking around with some imp would impact my reputation –?”

“Ah yes, how could I forget,” Stolas interrupted, giving her a cool smile as he clasped his hands in his lap. “Everything must always be about you. I should never value my own desires in the slightest if it causes you some minor inconvenience –”

“Exactly!” Stella said. She sat back down, crossing her arms triumphantly. “Finally we’re on the same page.” It took everything in Stolas not to roll his eyes. Stella had never been the brightest star in the constellation. “I expect you to cut ties with that creature and prevent any further embarrassment to our family.” Stolas eyes narrowed.

“Stella, I am tired of you ordering me around –”

“Oh please! That’s how this marriage works,” Stella shot back, giving him a cruel smile. She let out one of her grating laughs, moving to stand. “You really think you’re going to be the one making decisions all of a sudden? A spineless fool like you? Ha! You’ll only make yourself look like even more of a naïve idiot.” She began walking along the table, grazing her talons along the smooth, pristine surface. She stopped next to Stolas. “Don’t make me remind you who’s in charge here, Sto-las.” With that she stuck her beak in the air, swiftly leaving the dining room. Stolas waited until he could no longer hear the clicking of her heels. Then he put his elbows on the table, massaging his temples.

He had come here to eat his breakfast in peace. But of course Stella had to show up and ruin his meal. He let out another sigh, leaning back in his high-backed, purple-cushioned chair as he looked up at the ceiling. His eyes traced the etched golden moons.

It was always best to endure Stella’s tantrums until she tired herself out, at least whenever it was impossible to avoid her entirely. When he did try to argue, to try and make her understand his perspective, she would only become more stubborn and combative. It was exhausting. It led them nowhere but the same, meaningless cycle of petty arguments and her own childish retaliations. He rolled his eyes thinking about how she just had to ruin his clothes with magical ink the moment he was ready to leave with Octavia to meet with Blitzy and his daughter.

At least Octavia wasn’t around to witness this particular argument. He felt guilty enough that she overheard their last one. He and Stella never liked each other, definitely never loved each other, but Octavia didn’t need to know that. Although it was becoming increasingly harder to keep her in the dark.

He was hoping that he could explain everything properly when she was older. Did he know how he would explain everything? No. When he would explain everything? No as well. He slumped in his chair, letting out a defeated hoot. Then he looked at his untouched breakfast pensively.

Perhaps after he and Stella were divorced.

He thought back to the bar bathroom, the first place he ever confessed his desire for a divorce aloud. Even verbalizing it was such a sweet weight off of his shoulders. And Blitzø had listened to him. He didn’t call him foolish. He didn’t react as though Stolas wanting something different from his predetermined life was impossible.

The past two days Blitzø had been so patient, so sincere, so determined to ensure that the ones around him were happy, even when they didn’t deserve it, even when he was harmed in the process, much to Stolas’ own dismay. And when Blitzø did voice his disagreement with something Stolas had said, he was never spiteful, never undeservedly cruel.

Stolas never knew that relationships could be like that. So dynamic, so playful, so raw –

Stolas covered his titter with his hand, even though he was alone in the dining hall. He could imagine the jokes Blitzy would make if he knew Stolas considered their relationship to be raw. Then he felt the heat rise in his cheeks as his thoughts began to wander once again to more…salacious memories of their past two days together. It had become quite a cycle:

Sharp teeth on his neck, knee pressed between his legs, fingers rubbing up against the apex of his thighs –  

And oh when Blitzø took off his hospital gown, revealing toned muscles that must’ve come from years of acrobatics followed by various jobs as an assassin. How Stolas wanted to run his tongue up the hard plane of his stomach, place his hands on his biceps, sit in his lap and feel his growing –

He covered his face with both hands, shaking his head. Fuck. He’d truly never felt this way before. Even years ago when he resorted to using those aphrodisiacs. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do with all of these new desires. He removed his hands from his face, picking up his fork to move it across his plate, suddenly needing something to do with his hands.

He wanted to invite Blitzø over. He wanted to light candles and wear something enticing and see that look of want on his Blitzy’s face that he only got to see glimpses of in those interrupted, heady moments. He wanted to make love, something he’d never done before.

Sex had been a responsibility. It had been a mechanical, unfeeling thing. But now not only was he embarrassingly attracted to this imp who had suddenly reappeared in his life, he had developed such feelings for him. Attraction, care, trust – he could only wonder how those things would factor into sex.

He stopped moving his fork, frowning. But what about when one cared more than the other? When one’s feelings were deeper? With Stella it was obvious that neither of them enjoyed the obligation of sex. At least they were on the same page. And yes, Blitzø had claimed that he wanted Stolas, but it was clear that someone else had his heart. Could Stolas be okay with that? Perhaps that was the best that he could ask for – to be intimate with someone who liked him and wanted him enough, just not fully.

Or could he convince Blitzø to cast aside whoever had his heart and choose him instead? Was that possible? If Stolas’ suspicions were correct, he would like to hope that he had a chance. That Moxxie fellow was married, after all.

‘He’s with me.’

‘They’re also my family.’

The way Moxxie touched Blitzy’s shoulder, grabbed his wrist, seemed to be familiar with the scars on his body –

Stolas gripped his fork tightly, gold digging into his palm. Then he took a deep breath, exhaling. He was in no position to be jealous. He had been preparing himself for this ever since he woke up yesterday morning, hungover and missing Blitzy already.

What he couldn’t understand was how an imp assassin managed to obtain a crystal from the King of Lust to gift to Blitzø in the first place. Maybe this ‘Moxxie’ was exceptionally charismatic? His wife appeared to love him deeply. Seeing the two of them interact had been heartwarming, almost replacing the growing jealousy that had taken root in the pit of his stomach.

He wondered how Blitzø must feel, if he truly did have feelings for one of his married employees. He seemed to be masking it well, but that must be incredibly difficult. Stolas set his fork down, putting his chin in his hand once more. He began to think of nice things he could do for Blitzy. Buy him something expensive? Take him to a fancy restaurant? Perhaps he could repay Blitzø for letting him borrow his clothes by hiring a designer to pick out a whole new wardrobe for him? He frowned. Something about those options didn’t feel like things Blitzø would like. But what else could Stolas offer him?

Then his phone began to ring, causing him to jump as it filled the silence. He pulled it out, looking at the caller ID to see the word ‘Blitzy’ with a heart. He looked around, making sure that he was still alone, and then cleared his throat, answering the call and lifting the phone to his ear. He found himself straightening his posture, a smile forming as excitement fluttered in his stomach.

“~Blitzy~! What do I owe the pleasure of –?”

“Uh, this is Loona, actually,” Loona said, and that fluttery feeling in Stolas’ stomach quickly turned to panic. The last time he was on the phone with Loona Blitzø had been captured. Stolas had been out of his mind with worry, remembering the pained shout from Blitzø over the phone, the way he said Stolas’ name, not once but twice, first panicked, then pleading. He should’ve realized that something was wrong when Blitzø said his name the first time, after so stubbornly avoiding it. He wanted to hear it again, but under much different circumstances –

He shook his head, Loona had to be calling for an important reason. He desperately hoped that it wasn’t life-or-death this time around.

“Is Blitzy okay?” Stolas asked, gripping the phone.

“He’s…fine,” Loona said. Stolas didn’t like the hesitation. “He’s sick.”

“Sick?” Stolas asked, heart plummeting. “Did the doctors say anything? Is it serious –?”

“It’s not serious,” Loona said, sounding annoyed while Stolas felt relieved. “He sure loves acting like it’s serious, though, when he gets like this,” she grumbled. Stolas furrowed his brow in confusion. “Remember when I told you he gets needy as fuck when he’s sick?”

“Oh right! You mentioned that after we returned from the observatory.”

“Yeah, and before you two idiots went to a bar and he got hungover before our job. Which we didn’t get paid for, by the way, since you killed the client. We’re living off their chump change until our next job. So now he’s your problem. When’s the earliest you can portal to our apartment?”

“O-oh! Erm…” Stolas said, pushing his chair back as he moved to stand. What about the payment Blitzy must have received from Paimon? Did they spend it all already? It was probably rude of him to ask. And if this meant he could see Blitzy today, then of course he would jump at the chance. “Shall I bring some medicine? I can gather some supplies and –”

“Yeah, yeah, sure. Can you get here in 30?” Stolas’ eyes widened. He was entirely caught off guard, but he also found himself bouncing on his talons in excitement. He left the dining hall, heading for his garden as he thought through which medicinal plants would be best.

“I can make it twenty!” Stolas said confidently. “What are his symptoms? Fever? Congestion? Nausea –?”

“Whiny bitch syndrome,” Loona said, tone flat.

“Heeey! Who’re you talkin’ shit with? Have some sympathy for Daddy!” Stolas could hear Blitzø’s voice. He let out a surprised laugh.

“I may have just the thing,” Stolas said, biting back his grin. He was going to see Blitzy today. Loona scoffed.

“Hope you do, for your sake. And bring Octavia. We have plans.” Stolas’ heart soared even higher.

“Ohoo! You two are spending time together? How fun! What will you girls be up to –?”

“20 minutes!” Loona interrupted. Then she hung up. Stolas looked at his phone in surprise, and then he beamed, hurrying to his garden. He would just have to bring all the medicinal plants he had.

Originally he had been dressed in his standard, royal regalia this morning. As he got ready to depart, however, he decided it may be more appropriate to dress down for such a house-call.

He decided to wear (after a perfectly appropriate number of outfit changes) his white t-shirt with a yellow star on it and gray shorts. He left the crowned hat and cape hanging on his clothing rack. He also had made sure to lock up his magical ink using a complex spell this time, so hopefully his accoutrements would be clean by the time he returned. He looked at himself in the mirror, smoothing out his headfeathers. Did he look okay? Would Blitzy be surprised by his outfit? Would Blitzy be surprised by his arrival entirely –?

“You haven’t worn that in a while,” Octavia observed, looking at Stolas’ shirt. He turned to see her standing in his bedroom doorway. She was wearing her usual outfit, a black tote bag slung over her shoulder.

“Octavia! Are you excited for your outing today?” Stolas asked, walking over to give her shoulders a squeeze. She rolled her eyes, suppressing her smile.

“Sure. You seem even more excited to take care of that guy, though,” she pointed out, her expression complicated. Was there suspicion in her gaze?

“O-oh, well, I am happy to help, given that he had planned such a great outing at the observatory for us,” Stolas explained, letting go of Via to fidget with his hands. Then his expression softened. He walked over to his bed, picking up the bag he packed. It contained various high-quality, magic-infused medicinal plants he’d grown himself, a thermometer, his grimoire, as well as other relevant supplies.

He looped the strap over his forearm, moving to join Octavia by the door once more. He smiled down at her. He was constantly surprised by how grown up she looked. She’d always be his little starfire, though, even in a hundred years.

“You’re always so cute when you have a cold, Via. I haven’t had a sick day with you in a while,” he reminisced, clasping his hands together and resting them under his chin. “You had the most adorable little sneezes when you were an owlet –” Octavia groaned.

“Suuure Dad,” she said, unable to hold back her smile entirely. “I was definitely snotty and gross.”

“Snotty and adorable,” Stolas promised, giving her a boop on her beak. She scoffed. Then her expression shifted into something more pensive.

“Mum gets sick every once in a while. She makes sure the whole palace knows,” she began. “But I don’t remember you ever being sick. Not even a cold.” Stolas smiled.

“I suppose I’m lucky.”

“If I learn more magic, will I be more like you? No more sick days?” she asked. Stolas placed a hand at the top of her head.

“Perhaps, darling. But it’s perfectly okay to have sicks days. And I will always take care of you when you do.” In truth, Stolas did get sick from time to time. It was something he told Blitzø, in fact, back at the diner. But his precious Octavia didn’t need to worry over something as silly as that. He got over illnesses quickly. It was better to take his medicine, get some sleep, and then spend time with her once he was all better. “Ready to go?” he asked. Octavia nodded.

Thankfully Stella was off doing who-knows-what, so she didn’t interfere with them leaving this time. He could only imagine how irritatingly tempestuous she’d get if she discovered he was about to go take care of the same imp she told him not to see anymore. And that Octavia was about to spend time out with that imp’s daughter.

He dropped his hand from Octavia’s head and held out his arms, pooling his magic. He thought about Blitzy’s apartment. The last time he was there Blitzø had pulled him through his own portal and they had ended up in quite a…compromising position on the couch. He swallowed thickly, a heat rising in his cheeks again –

“Wait,” Octavia said. Stolas stopped, quickly looking down at her. Shit. Did she notice something in his expression? “Can I do it?” she asked. Ah. Stolas dropped his arms. Recently he’d been letting Octavia practice making portals, like when she came to join him at the plant shop and brought the grimoire with her.

Part of him had been hesitant to teach her at first, worried that she would run away due to some bout of teenage angst. But he also thought that this would be an important skill to have if there was ever an emergency, if for whatever reason he was no longer around to protect her. Not the most comforting thought, but he wanted to be certain that Octavia would be okay, with or without him. He didn’t trust Stella to take care of her properly.

“Okay! Go ahead, dearest,” he said, pulling the grimoire out of his bag and handing it over to her. Her eyes lit up as she took the book, flipping through the pages. Then she took a breath, closing her eyes.

“Take me to see my…friend,” Octavia said, saying the last part quietly. Stolas beamed at her. She cracked open an eye, seeing Stolas’ expression and quickly closing her eye again, a blush rising in her cheeks. “And the shifty weirdo my Dad’s going to nurse back to health, apparently,” she added, tone dry. Stolas watched as Octavia’s eyes opened, glowing purple as black and purple magic swirled around her. Then a shifting portal opened next to them, revealing Blitzø’s apartment.

“Excellent job, sweetie!” Stolas said, letting out a happy hoot as he clapped his hands. He put an arm around her shoulders and led them both through the portal, stepping into the apartment to stand in front of the couch.

“OooOooh FUCK!” Stolas watched in surprise as Blitzø somehow fell out of his bean bag chair. Blitzø then proceeded to blink up at him in confusion from the floor, the portal closing behind them.

Stolas’ expression softened as in drank in the sight of him, feeling that fluttery sensation that had taken residence in his stomach recently, ever since he found Blitzø in Octavia’s closet.

Stolas felt a sense of relief when he noticed that Blitzø was wearing an oversized t-shirt with a horse on it and black shorts. It appeared that it was the right decision to dress down a little. Then he noticed his cape laid out on the bean bag chair. Right. He’d forgotten that he left it here. A heat rose in his cheeks. Had Blitzø been using it as a blanket? Fuck, did it smell nice? When was the last time he had it properly washed? Was it soft enough? Would it smell like Blitzø now? Gun powder and some kind of spice that Stolas was still struggling to determine but found incredibly enticing? Could that be Blitzy’s natural scent?

He went back to looking Blitzø over, trying to focus on what brought him here in the first place, rather than letting himself get distracted by his own musings. It didn’t take long to notice the sweat on Blitzø’s forehead, the dark circles under his eyes, the unfocused gaze, the half-melted ice pack now on the floor. Ah, so fever it was.

“Loonieeeee! I’m hallucinating now! I told ya I’m not being overdramatic,” Blitzø began, pushing himself up on his elbows. Stolas reached down to help him up, but then the bathroom door opened.

“Finally. You’re here,” Loona said, stepping out to join them. Octavia handed the grimoire back to Stolas and he slipped it into his bag. Blitzø returned to lying flat on his back, looking like an adorable starfish as he stared up at the ceiling. He let out a small cough. Stolas wondered if he should be helping him up, or if Blitzø preferred the floor in this moment.

“Hey,” Octavia said to Loona, shifting nervously where she stood but looking excited.

“Hey,” Loona said with a smile. “Glad you were free. I gotta get the hell out of this apartment.” Stolas watched as she walked over to Blitzø, her expression shifting to annoyance. “Why do you keep sleeping on the bean bag? Get back on the couch, dipshit!” She lifted her gaze to look at Stolas, noticing the large bag on his arm. She gave him a nod. “You seemed like the type to go overboard. Keep an eye on him while we’re out. Even better, use your magic or whatever to get him back to his usual annoying self.” She looked over at Blitzø again. Stolas realized that he was mumbling, maybe even singing – something about…a wet, wild, stallion? Lucifer, even with a fever he was just so endearing. Then he realized that Loona was probably waiting for some kind of affirmation.

“I’ll do my best!” he said cheerily, looking back at Loona and giving her his most confident smile. He placed his bag on the floor. Then he gently scooped Blitzø up. He looked around the apartment. He saw the door to the bathroom, the door to Loona’s bedroom, and the door leading out into the hallway, but where was…?

“Where is Blitzy’s room?”

“In your MOM!” Blitzø said, letting out a laugh. Octavia rolled her eyes.

“You’re looking at it,” Loona said, gesturing to the couch. Stolas’ eyes widened a fraction. “Was us being broke not clear enough?” she added, sounding defensive as she crossed her arms and looked away.

“I do apologize for preventing you all from getting paid,” Stolas said, feeling a tug of guilt. “I can pay you whatever it was you were due. I can compensate even beyond that, just tell me how much –” Loona waved him off.

“You already paid for the hospital bill. And you made sure this idiot didn’t get shot,” Loona reasoned. Octavia looked surprised at that, and Stolas tried not to wince. He had been vague about where he was yesterday. “Soooo take care of him for a few hours and we’re even.”

“Okay! What an easy request!” Stolas said. He set Blitzø down on the couch. Blitzø turned to flop over on his stomach. Then he glanced down at Stolas’ large bag.

“What’re you? Mary fucking Poppins?” he asked, looking up at Stolas now. “Gimme a spoonful a sugar and medicine isn’t the only thing that’ll go down, if you’re lucky,” he said, sounding half-delirious, as if he still suspected that Stolas was a hallucination. Oh he was just so adorable. Loona rolled her eyes.

“I think we should go,” Octavia said, looking warily at Blitzø before moving to join Loona, who was already heading for the door. She looked back at Stolas. “I’ll text you when I need a portal, Dad.” She paused, looking like she wanted to say more, but then she closed her beak, adjusting the strap of her bag on her shoulder.

“Sounds good, Via dear!” Stolas replied, giving them both a wave. “I hope you both have fun doing…whatever it is you’re doing! You are being safe, I hope?”

“We’re going to a record shop Loona told me about,” Octavia explained. “It has a lot of vintage stuff. Some old radios, too.”

“And then we’re gonna go blow shit up for fun,” Loona said over her shoulder, hand on the doorknob. Stolas’ eyes widened. He was about to protest, a nervous, high-pitched noise rising at the back of his throat, but then Loona gave him a teasing grin and opened the door, the two of them leaving. “Don’t worry old man! She’s in good hands!” The door closed behind them and Stolas exhaled, slumping his shoulders as a small smile graced his beak.

He looked down to see that Blitzø was already looking up at him, that confused, half-delirious expression still on his face. It was as if he was looking at a meteor that’d suddenly appeared.

“I’m not a hallucination, Blitzy,” Stolas assured him, hiding a titter behind his hand.

“Got it. Am I dreaming, then?”

“Hmm. How likely would it be for me to show up in your dreams?” Stolas asked, giving him a flirty look as he moved to sit on the edge of the couch. He did look rather unwell. And it wasn’t entirely surprising that Blitzø would get sick after the excitement from the past two days. Tsk. He shouldn’t have taken that IV out of his arm –

“Pretty fucking likely,” Blitzø answered, and Stolas’ beak parted in surprise. He felt his face warm. Had Blitzy dreamed about him before? What could’ve possibly happened in those dreams?

Stolas himself had dreams of them playing together when he was still an owlet. The way they laughed in those dreams – swinging on branches, finding hidden treasure, seeing the stars, riding horses with silly names. They were always sweet, like childhood dreams were meant to be. On rare occasions he had such dreams in his adulthood as well. They were considerably hazier, but still saccharine. Then, inevitably, he would wake up and be reminded of the sharp bitterness of reality.

Eventually, he stopped having such lovely dreams all together. And then, only a few days ago, he woke up to find those childhood dreams tucked away in Octavia’s closet. It had been like those feelings never left, rushing to blanket him once more.

He found himself unable to stop smiling at he looked down at Blitzø, who was still laying on his stomach on the couch, cheek pressed against the cushion. His eyes were closed now, brow furrowed. Stolas reached out, wanting to place a comforting hand on his back, like he’d done with Octavia so many times when she was sick.

“Nightmares, too,” Blitzø suddenly mumbled. Stolas’ eyes widened, his smile falling. He cleared his throat, pulling his hand away and using his magic to bring his bag over to him. He began to rummage through it, finding the best assortment of plants that would help with Blitzø’s fever.

“What kind of nightmares?” Stolas couldn’t help but ask. He let out a hollow, self-conscious laugh. “I suppose I did become quite a hideous creature yesterday…” he felt a wave of shame crest within him. He also had the impression that he said some wrong things yesterday, based on Blitzø’s reactions. When he reflected on it afterwards, he was a tad prickly with Blitzø’s employees – his family – the individuals he so clearly cared deeply about –

“Losing you,” Blitzø said, and Stolas’ gaze flicked over to look at him in surprise, something clenching around his heart. Blitzø’s eyes were still closed, crinkled in discomfort. Then he shifted on the couch to move on his back, slinging his arm to rest on his forehead. Stolas pulled out the proper plants, holding the small, see-though bags he had meticulously labelled as he shifted to face Blitzø more fully.

“Come again?” he asked, realizing that he sounded a little breathless. Blitzø let out a laugh.

“I’ll come as many times as ya want, big bird.” Then his mirth quickly shifted to agitation. “If it wasn’t so fucking hot in here. Why’s it so hot?” He wiggled uncomfortably. Stolas reached out to put a hand on his forehead. Yes. He was definitely burning up. Stolas clicked his beak, feeling a tug of sympathy, and then he moved to stand. He could make a nice ginger tea. The antioxidants would do him well –

But before he could move to the kitchen, he felt a warm hand grab his wrist. He looked down to see Blitzø looking up at him, a furrow in his brow.

“Stay here,” Blitzø directed, tone firm, and Stolas found himself sitting back down immediately. Fuck that was such a turn on. He felt his own face warm, embarrassed to be having such thoughts while Blitzy was sick and needed care. He placed his hand over Blitzø’s.

“I’m only going to make some medicinal tea that will improve your condition, Blitzy. I’ll take a mere minute, maybe two–oh!” Blitzø tugged Stolas towards him, moving him so that Stolas’ back was resting against the arm of the couch, now laying down himself. Before he could protest Blitzø was curled up against his chest, much like a relatively large, hot coal.

“M’fine,” Blitzø mumbled into Stolas’ t-shirt. Stolas’ face had become a full-on inferno. “So stay.”

Stolas continued to look down at the top of Blitzø’s head in surprise, trying to formulate a convincing argument as to why he should be in the kitchen. He was here to nurse Blitzø back to health, after all. But then he felt Blitzø nuzzle his face into his chest, shifting as he got comfortable, and any case Stolas had been developing in his head dissipated.

“So hot,” Blitzø complained. “N soft,” he mumbled quietly. Stolas let out a quiet scoff, a furious blush still in his cheeks. Blitzy really was quite stubborn. Was this the neediness Loona had mentioned? It didn’t seem ‘needy’, per se. Affectionate was a more accurate word. Stolas couldn’t remember the last time he received such affection. But as much as he wanted to bask in this feeling, he wanted Blitzø to get better as well.

He glanced over the back of the couch to get a view of the kitchen. It was relatively bare, other than an empty pizza box on the counter, and various containers of seasonings by the stove. Then he spotted a humble tea kettle on one of the burners. Perfect.

He waved his hand, moving it over to the sink to fill it with water, then turning on the stove and placing the kettle down to heat. Next, he levitated his bags of plants over to the kitchen table. Blitzø watched as the bags flew away from them.

“Ooo did ya bring Daddy some drugs?” he asked, shifting so he could look at Stolas. Stolas watched as he placed his hands on Stolas’ chest and under his own chin, tail whishing around playfully as if he was hit with a sudden burst of energy. “Now this’s a real party. Whatcha got? Weed? Meth –?” Stolas let out a laugh, Blitzø bouncing slightly from the vibrations.

“Medicine, Blitzy,” Stolas corrected, expression soft. “To help you with that fever of yours. You’re being quite silly.” He placed his hand on Blitzø’s forehead again, frowning at the sweat on his brow, the heat radiating onto his own palm. He used his magic to pull the thermometer out of his bag. He closed his hand around it, giving Blitzø a gentle smile. “Could you open your mouth for me, please?”

“Heh, wanna stick something in my mouth, big bird?” Blitzø teased, running his tail along Stolas’ side in such a way that caused Stolas to shiver, the feathers around his neck puffing out slightly. “Don’t wanna buy me dinner first?” Stolas let out a shaky laugh.

“G-getting your fever down is my first priority, Blitzy,” he explained. “Perhaps we could get dinner after?” Stolas paused, remembering something Blitzø had said when they only just reunited, before they went to that diner. “I wouldn’t say no to us ‘eating out’, hm?” Blitzø laughed, a genuine smile on his face.

“I’m feelin’ better already." Blitzø proceeded to open his mouth. Stolas placed the thermometer under his tongue, trying not to imagine all of the things Blitzø could likely do with that tongue. A moment later the thermometer chimed and he looked at the reading. As he suspected, it was quite high. He carefully pulled the thermometer from Blitzø’s mouth, but not before Blitzø gave the tip a suggestive suck, looking at Stolas as he did so. Holy fuck.

Stolas almost dropped the thermometer, cheeks quickly heating up as he swallowed thickly. After a bit of fumbling, Blitzø’s smiling smugly as he watched Stolas, Stolas managed to put the thermometer back in his bag, thinking about the best ways in which he could bring Blitzy’s temperature down. Then he remembered a spell that could be useful. How did it work again?

He lifted his free hand, using magic to pull his grimoire out of his bag, bringing it over. For some reason it began to drift towards the couch cushion, emitting an unusual glow. Stolas furrowed his brow and brought the grimoire back upwards. Then he opened it, flipping through the pages. “Ah! Yes!” He sent the book back to his bag. He proceeded to rub his hands together, a blue glow appearing between them. A whisper of frost and snow blew through the air.

“What in Satan’s taint –?” Blitzø asked, confused. He looked over at his window, shifting so he was propped up on his forearms, still on Stolas’ chest. “Dammit, do we have a draft –?” Stolas let out a giggle, placing his hands delicately on Blitzø’s cheeks.

“How does that feel, Blitzy?” he asked. He watched as Blitzø sighed, leaning into Stolas’ palms, cheeks smushing adorably as he closed his eyes.

“Fuck that feels nice,” he said, and Stolas let out a pleased little hum. “Didn’t know you had ice powers, too. Like that cumrag in-law of yours.” Stolas blinked in confusion, tilting his head slightly. Was he referring to Andrealphus? But how did he know him? Stolas was about to ask, but then Blitzø wrapped his tail around Stolas’ waist, folding his arms on Stolas’ chest and laying his head on them. “Could ya move those magic hands of yours to the rest a me? Just don’t ice my dick, unless you’re in the mood to try something new. Can’t believe we haven’t done that yet.” Stolas’ eyes widened, trying to understand what Blitzø could possibly mean by that last sentence. He made it sound like they’ve done various erotic things with each other. He swallowed thicky, shaking his head. He must have misunderstood. Blitzy currently had a fever, after all.

He moved to run one of his magically cold hands up and down Blitzø’s back. He could feel Blitzø become boneless on top of him, finally seeming to relax, his discomfort slowly ebbing. Feeling bolder, more confident that Blitzø did indeed want this, he placed his other hand around the base of one of Blitzø’s horns, rubbing his thumb back and forth. Blitzø’s tail wound a fraction tighter around Stolas’ waist.

It was then that Stolas heard the most incredible noise. Blitzø was purring. Stolas could feel the quiet, rhythmic vibrations on his own chest. He looked down at Blitzø, mesmerized as he continued to run comforting, cold hands over him. He could feel his own lungs filling with an entirely unfamiliar, quite overwhelming feeling, somehow both thrilling and softly nostalgic, like those dreams he used to have. But this was real. It was right in front of him. On top of him. Holding him as if this was the most natural thing in the world. As if they’d been this close a hundred times over.

Is this…is this what being chosen felt like? Could he dare to think that way, when he knew that Blitzø had deeper feelings for someone else? When Blitzø would likely prefer that someone else to be here taking care of him instead? Would Blitzø be holding that ‘someone else’ like this? Be making such endearing, peaceful sounds?

And yet, feelings could change. Just because Blitzø’s heart belonged to another at the moment, what was stopping Stolas from trying to steal it away, much like the pirate Blitzø had taught him how to be so long ago? He certainly felt greedy enough.

Stolas had all of space at his fingertips, countless glittering stars. He had magic, and money, and status. He could sate desires and vices other demons could only dream of. And yet, even with all of that in his grasp –

He continued to look at Blitzø, purring in his arms, eyes closed and as he took slow, steady breaths. Stolas hands stilled on Blitzø’s back, holding him gently.

He couldn’t help but want just a little bit more. And that little bit felt like everything. That little bit felt more precious than much of what he already had in his immortal life.

Then the tea kettle let out an insistent whine and Stolas flinched, forgetting that it’d been heating up. Blitzø opened his eyes, turning his face to looking at Stolas.

“Sorry,” Stolas said quietly. The ice magic dissipated from his hands as he flicked his wrist, turning off the stove. The whining sound coming from the kettle stopped. “Where do you keep your mugs?” Blitzø shifted, moving to straddle Stolas stomach as he rubbed his eyes. Stolas blushed furiously while Blitzø didn’t seem to realize the position they were in as he pointed to one of the cabinets.

“I want the one with the horse on it,” he instructed. Stolas swallowed thickly, and then he waved his hand, opening the cabinet. He squinted his eyes, craning his neck as he looked. “It’s that one at the top,” Blitzø said, and Stolas spotted a white mug with a yellow handle. He could make out some words and two small horses. He used his magic to remove the mug from the cabinet.

“Careful, big bird. It’s my favorite. Loonie got it for me,” Blitzø said, setting his palms on Stolas’ chest.

“R-right. It’s in good hands. I promise,” Stolas assured him, clearing his throat as he brought the mug down, setting it on the counter. Now he could read it properly. It said, ‘Yes, I really do need all these horses’. Stolas bit back his laughter. How adorable. He remembered Blitzy mentioning horses when they were children.

“I think I’m the one in good hands,” Blitzø corrected, and Stolas looked at him in surprise, seeing Blitzø’s soft look, still feeling Blitzø’s palms resting on his chest. He opened his beak to respond, but his thoughts were suddenly slow and jumbled, his tongue no longer cooperating.

“Uhh – I – well – you –” Stolas managed to stumble out, eyes still wide. Blitzø’s tail whished from side to side as he looked down at Stolas. His yellow eyes flashed playfully, his pupils slightly larger than normal. “Yes! I am quite practiced!” He saw Blitzø’s smirk. “At caring for sick demons!” Stolas added in a rush. “Like my daughter! I didn’t mean to imply that I’m particularly good with my hands! That would be quite arrogant of me!”

“Weren’tcha bragging about your finger placements yesterday?” Blitzø pointed out, still smiling. Stolas’ face flushed. Then he let out a huff, using his magic to lift the small bags of medicinal plants from the kitchen table, opening them and tilting the contents into the mug.

“I wasn’t bragging. I was simply…not disputing your observation.” He remembered his guitar lesson with Octavia after leaving the hospital. There were moments when his fingers were on the strings and he remembered Blitzø’s comment. He had to fight back his blush as he attempted to explain the basic chords.

Blitzø let out a laugh, quickly pulling Stolas from his thoughts and back to the apartment.

“I am pretty observant,” he said, giving Stolas a smug smile that was incredibly endearing. Stolas let out a laugh of his own, Blitzø once again bouncing. Then Stolas used his magic to pour hot water from the kettle and into the mug. Once that was done he brought the mug over to them, reaching out to grab the handle.

He still couldn’t comprehend how they had gotten this close after only, what? A little more than two days? This, whatever this was, just felt so…comfortable. He was still blushing and feeling butterflies and was trying his hardest not to be a flustered (and horny) disaster, of course, but he couldn’t ignore the feeling that Blitzø just seemed to know him unlike anyone he’d met before. He smiled at the thought, blowing on the tea.

“This will help with that fever,” Stolas explained, handing the mug over to Blitzø. Blitzø took it, careful not to spill as he moved to sit on the couch properly.

“So no fun drugs in here?” Blitzø asked, looking down at it. Stolas pushed himself upwards, now sitting against the arm of the couch.

“Depends on your definition of fun,” Stolas replied, hugging his knees to his chest. “Some people mistakenly believe that ginger is a root, but it’s actually a rhizome!”

“A rhi-what-now?”

“An underground stem!” Stolas said. Blitzø scoffed.

“That certainly one definition of fun,” he offered, and Stolas watched Blitzø lift the mug to his lips. Then he remembered something.

“Wait!” he said, holding out his hand. Blitzø flinched, looking at Stolas in surprise.

“Damn, big bird, I almost spilled this bitch! Is this some kinda new fancy treatment? Cold hands then boiling water?” Stolas winced, although he knew there was no real bite in Blitzø’s words.

“Apologies,” he said. Then he reached down, rifling through his bag. “Just give me one moment, sorry –”

“You don’t need to apologize to me,” Blitzø said quietly. Stolas’ hand stilled in his bag for a moment, wondering what brought on his somber tone. But he had something that would hopefully lift Blitzø’s spirits. He pulled out a container of honey.

“I just need to add one final ingredient!” Stolas explained, opening the jar and tilting it over the mug. Together they watched as the thick, amber liquid slowly fell into the mug.

“The tea would’ve been too bitter without this,” Stolas explained, closing the jar and putting it back into the bag. “Now it will be sweet, which is your preference, yes?” It would also help with reducing his fever. Octavia always liked this honey in her tea when she was sick, so hopefully Blitzy would enjoy it as well.

“Heh. You remembered,” Blitzø said, looking up at him. There was something complicated in his expression, something Stolas couldn’t quite decipher.

“Of course,” Stolas said. “I care to know everything you like,” he blurted out. He watched the way Blitzø’s eyes widened. Stolas hugged his knees more tightly to his chest, looking away as he tried to fight off his blush. Then he stole a glance at Blitzø, unable to help himself. He watched as Blitzø took a long sip.

“It’s great,” Blitzø said, giving Stolas a grin. Then Stolas spotted the flash of mischief in his eyes. “I think we could have that ‘dinner’ now…” Stolas scoffed, a smile of his own tugging at his beak as he let himself relax a bit.

“It’ll take much more than that to bring your fever down,” he observed.

“You’re such a professional,” Blitzø said, a teasing edge to his voice. “If you weren’t born a royal I’d suggest nursing. Bet you’d rock the gettup.” He slowly dragged his gaze up Stolas’ legs. Stolas let out a nervous laugh.

“Keep showering me with compliments and I’d be tempted to invest in a nurse’s costume for next time,” he replied, feeling bold all of a sudden. Pirates had to be bold, yes? He tracked Blitzø’s expression. Was there the hint of a blush there?

“Already promising to take care of me again, eh, birdie?” Blitzø pointed out with a smile. But why did there appear to be a sudden layer of sadness there? Was he getting tired? “You’re always the one taking care of me.” Stolas tilted his head in confusion. There was something distant and glassy in Blitzø’s gaze as he looked over at the window. “I don’t deserve it. You saved my ass and were there when I woke up at the hospital. I didn’t do either of those things. And now you’re here when you could be spending time with your daughter. I took you away from her –”

Stolas furrowed his brow in confusion. Took him away from her? Did Blitzø forget that Octavia was spending time with Loona? And why did he seem so guilty about things that have never even occurred? It’s not like Stolas had been in any serious danger himself. And he’d never been in the hospital for a dire reason either.

“I will see Octavia later, when she’s ready to return to the palace –”

“What if you could never go back?” Blitzø asked, something desperate and wild in his gaze as he looked at Stolas. “And it was my fault? You’d hate me, how could you not hate me –?” Stolas let go of his legs, moving them off the couch as he shifted to sit closer to Blitzø.

“Where is this coming from, Blitzy? What could you possibly do to –?”

“Or maybe there’s some kinda undo button,” Blitzø said. “If I mess up again is there a spell where I can just, I dunno, take it back? I’ve already fucked up so many times –” Stolas blinked at him, feeling his heart drop.

“What do you…?” Stolas began, afraid to ask but needing to know. “What do you want to take back? What are you trying to avoid?” Blitzø looked at him for a long time. Stolas needed to remind himself to breathe.

“Forget it,” Blitzø said suddenly, setting the mug down on the side table. “It’ll never happen. I’ll make sure of it.” Stolas frowned. Something about this gave him an uneasy feeling, like he was missing something important. Like Blitzø was suddenly speaking in a language he didn’t understand. He moved to place a hand on Blitzø’s forehead. Shit. He was burning up again. Ah, so that’s why he wasn’t making any sense. He knew the tea wouldn’t be enough, especially not two sips of it.

He began to wonder if tending to Goetia was different than imps. Did they get sick in the same way? Parts of this felt familiar to when he would take care of Octavia, but other parts of this were new to him. But maybe it was Blitzø that was new. Perhaps making such sweeping generalizations was unproductive. He needed to focus on understanding Blitzø and his needs, as confusing as they were proving to be.

“Lay down,” Stolas instructed gently. Blitzø looked like he was about to argue. “Please,” he added. Blitzø hesitated, but then he moved to lay down, resting the back of his head on the opposite arm of the couch and placing his hands on his stomach as he looked up at the ceiling. His tail was flicking around in agitation. The sweat on his brow was visible. He let out a cough, covering it with his fist. Stolas stood up, pulling a small towel from his bag.

“I’ll be right back,” he promised. Then he moved to stand, walking over to the kitchen sink. He put the towel under cold water until it was somewhere between damp and soaked. Then he used a variation of that ice spell to make the towel even colder. He turned the faucet off, taking a moment to collect his thoughts.

He had already feared that Blitzø had regrets. And now, based on what he just said…Stolas needed to confirm something. He wanted to be a pirate, to pursue his desires, for once, but he didn’t want to take anything by force. Certainly not this.

And he didn’t want to be the naïve idiot Stella was convinced he’d always be.

He walked back to the couch, sitting on the floor this time, next to where Blitzø was laying. He folded his legs under himself, reaching over to place the towel on Blitzø’s forehead. Blitzø’s tail stopped flicking. His expression relaxed somewhat.

“Thanks,” Blitzø said with a small smile, cracking an eye open to look at Stolas. And yet he still sounded so guilty. And something about his smile seemed forced. And something about his whole demeanor felt like he was somewhere far away. Like a distant, burning red star.

“You regret…us,” Stolas said quietly. He meant to phrase it as a question, not a statement. Either way, he couldn’t shake that feeling. He had always loved reading, and that sentiment seemed to exist so clearly between the lines of what Blitzø was saying.

But instead of confirming, Blitzø looked at him in confusion, both eyes open now.

“You regret us being…that we almost…” Stolas tried to explain, looking away from Blitzø. He knew Blitzø hadn’t truly wanted that, that he would view it as a mistake once he was fully sober. The demons Stolas met yesterday were part of Blitzø’s family. Stolas – Stolas was a client, barely a friend, a brief, drunken hookup. He couldn’t fool himself in believing that they were anything more than that. Sure, he endeavored to be a pirate, but he was trying to avoid being a delusional one. “It’s okay, really. I saw how – yesterday – with you and –”

“Stolas,” Blitzø said, and Stolas looked up at him in surprise. The way he said his name made Stolas feel breathless, as if Blitzø himself had said some secret spell he’d been keeping stashed away. He finally got to hear Blitzø say his name in person. But there was also something heartbroken in Blitzø’s expression as he shook his head slightly. “I could never,” he whispered, voice thick with honesty. “I…you…” He looked at Stolas for another long moment, brow furrowed, his own chest heaving slightly, as if he was teetering on the edge of something Stolas couldn’t name. He watched as Blitzø lifted himself up on his elbows. He took the towel off his forehead, setting it on the table next to the mug before looking back at Stolas. Then he let out a devastating laugh. “How do I even…? I –” he hesitated again, an intensity in his feverish gaze. “Here’s some honesty, rather than my shit lies, ‘kay?”

“O-okay,” Stolas breathed.

“Remember when I was gonna share a secret with you? Back when I pussied out and almost fell off the roof of that observatory?”

“How could I forget?” Stolas said, frowning at the memory, and then blushing at the other things that happened – how he held Blitzø to stop him from falling, how they almost kissed, how he got to see this new, captivating side of Blitzø that left him wanting even more. He cleared his throat. “Was you ‘freezing your tits off’ not the true secret, then?” he couldn’t help but tease. “But it was so vulnerable.”  Blitzø scoffed, whacking him playfully in the arm with his tail as he shifted to face Stolas fully, still propping himself up with one elbow. Then his expression was serious again, perhaps a tad nervous.

“My secret, the real, not bullshit one, is that I’m afraid all I can ever do is fuck things up,” he confessed quietly. “Sure, I act like I don’t give a flying shit, but…sometimes I do.” He let out a shaky exhale. “This,” he continued, putting a hand on Stolas’ cheek, searching his gaze. “I care about not messing this up. Even though all I’ve been doing is messing it up –”

“What? You haven’t,” Stolas said, shaking his head and placing his hand over Blitzø’s. Blitzø smiled sadly, looking down.

“You can only say that cuz you don’t know all my fuck-ups yet.”

“And you can only say that because you don’t know the full extent of just how happy you’ve made me, since the moment I saw you all those years ago, and even more so now,” Stolas said in a rush. Blitzø’s gaze flicked upwards in surprise, lips parted. Something heavy hung in the air between them as they continued to stare at each other, as if they could share everything in their hearts if they looked at each other long enough. If only it were that simple.

“You don’t get sick easily, right?” Blitzø asked, and Stolas tilted his head in confusion, not expecting that reply.

"Yes. Goetia generally have formidable immune systems –”

“Good,” Blitzø said, and suddenly he was cupping Stolas’ face, pulling him in for a kiss.

Chapter Text

Stolas rested his hand on the couch cushion, keeping his balance as Blitzø kissed him. All four of his eyes were wide, caught off guard, but as he felt Blitzø’s lips against his beak he found them falling closed. He leaned into the feeling, letting out a pleased trill at the base of his throat. Blitzø lips were warm and inviting, expertly coaxing Stolas’ mouth open. Stolas followed his lead, his desperate want making him feel like he had developed a fever of his own.

Blitzø moved to take gentle hold Stolas’ neck, pulling him closer while Stolas rested his other hand on Blitzø’s chest, feeling hard muscles through the fabric of his shirt. He wanted to be even closer. He wanted to feel more of him. He wanted Blitzø to feel him as well, to feel how good he was making Stolas feel. He had never desired such a connection with anyone else before. He moved to deepen their kiss further, sliding his tongue against Blitzø’s. He was tentative at first, unable to completely ignore his self-consciousness. But then he heard Blitzø’s pleased hum and felt bolder, more confident in what he was doing.

“C’mere,” Blitzø whispered, tugging Stolas’ shirt towards him. Without breaking apart, Stolas managed to climb onto the couch with shaky legs, Blitzø pressing against the back of it so they were lying side by side. Stolas bent his knees slightly so he could fit comfortably, and once he was settled Blitzø’s wrapped his tail around Stolas’ thigh. Then he nipped at Stolas’ bottom lip, swiftly swiping his tongue over it. Stolas let out a breathy gasp, resting a hand on Blitzø’s hip and giving it a squeeze as he tilted his head, kissing Blitzø at a new angle. Wanting to feel more of him, he slipped his hand under Blitzø’s shirt. Feeling Blitzø’s skin under his palm made something swoop in his stomach. Then he felt the bandage on his side.

“How does it feel?” Stolas asked, having barely enough time to say that much before Blitzo continued to kiss him. He tried to ignore the image of Blitzø almost getting shot. The memory of him collapsing in the middle of that warehouse, bleeding from his side. What if Stolas hadn’t gotten there in time? It was a question he couldn’t stop asking himself. To be reunited with Blitzø in such an unexpected, lovely way, only to lose him just as fast? His heart wouldn’t have been able to take it. His feelings had grown so rapidly these past few days, quickly expanding beyond a silly childhood crush. Expanding so far that it was becoming increasingly difficult to maintain. Growing things needed space and light to thrive; he knew that well. If this had any chance of thriving, Stolas would need to rearrange his life to make proper room for it. He would need to bring it out into the daylight. Was he ready to do that? What would Blitzø think? 

“Really fuckin’ good,” Blitzø breathed. Stolas was about to clarify that he was referring to his wound, but then Blitzø’s tongue continued to explore, slow and sensual. Stolas' head felt fuzzy, worries fading away until the only thought occupying his mind was Blitzø, Blitzø, Blitzø.

He hoped he was making Blitzø feel even a fraction of what he was feeling. He remembered the sensations Blitzø had pulled out of him back in the bar bathroom. The feeling of rapidly, breathlessly reaching a peak he’d never achieved before. That feeling was quickly developing again, the desperation and heat rising within him, igniting a new level of desire as he moved to cup Blitzø’s cheek.

“Mm, Blitzy,” Stolas murmured between kisses, their momentum not slowing at all. And yet, things weren’t escalating either, not like they did in that bar bathroom. Blitzø was keeping them at a steady, laid-back pace, as if he had all the time in the world. As if there was some kind of secret message he was trying to convey through his lips, through his touch. As if Stolas had somehow managed to slip past one of Blitzø’s defenses, and this was the treasure that’d been stashed away all this time.

“You make me happy too, Stolas,” Blitzø confessed, sliding his hand around Stolas' waist to rest on his back. “Fuck you make me so happy.” Wet, heady sounds filled the room. Stolas was finding it difficult to suppress his breathy, needy noises, completely pliant under Blitzø’s touch. Blitzø began to run his tail up and down Stolas’ leg, and Stolas gasped into his mouth, shivering at the contact.

“My pretty bird,” Blitzø mumbled, moving his hand from Stolas' back to his cheek as he continued to kiss him, continuing to run his tail along his body. “Making pretty noises.”

“O-only for you,” Stolas confessed, laying both hands on Blitzø’s chest, balling his fists into his t-shirt. “Only you have ever made me feel this way.” Blitzø continued to kiss him, so earnestly, with such feeling as he rubbed his thumb against Stolas’ cheek. Stolas could feel the promise of tears. It was true. Scary and true. He had written off the possibility of ever getting to experience these feelings for himself. He’d been resigned to living through the characters in his books. He’d convinced himself that tender romances were only found in pages and ink. Something that special couldn’t exist in the real world, definitely not in Hell, and definitely not for someone like Stolas.

And yet here he was, falling so completely. It felt like returning home, but also like leaving home for the first time to partake in some new adventure. The closing of one chapter, and the start of a new one.

The kisses began to slow, less tongue but still something overwhelmingly intimate about them, as if they could do this forever, as if this wasn’t their first kiss, but their first after a long time apart. Again, as thrilling and new as this was, Stolas couldn’t understand how this felt so natural so quickly, as if Blitzø knew just the right ways to kiss him, to touch him, when Stolas himself couldn’t articulate such a thing.

“Me too,” Blitzø said, and Stolas opened his eyes in surprise, breaking away from the kiss for a moment. Blitzø opened his eyes as well. There was something so certain in them. “I haven’t felt like this with anyone else, Stolas.”

"Really? But what about...?" Stolas began to ask. He saw the confusion in Blitzø’s expression. He also noticed his kiss-bitten lips, the sexy rumple to his shirt. Stolas’ felt a new flush rise in his cheeks. “I…well…I noticed that you seem to have, erm, an interest in married men,” he tried to explain. Fuck. He shouldn’t be bringing this up now. And what a horrible way to broach the topic. He was always so awkward, one of his many flaws Stella so kindly reminded him of. Awkward and ridiculous and inexperienced and –

“Uhhhh, who’re you talkin’ about other than yourself?” Blitzø asked, amusement and bewilderment in his eyes. His pupils were larger than normal, shining and attentive. He slid his hand off of Stolas’ cheek. Stolas felt a tug of anxiety, wondering if this was Blitzø pulling away. But then he felt Blitzø's hand hold one of his, waiting for Stolas’ reply. Lucifer, was Stolas really going to ask this so directly?

“I-I think he doesn’t know, to be clear, but I couldn’t help but notice, yesterday…” Stolas continued with a wince, hoping that Blitzø would catch on, but he still looked lost. “You and that Moxxie fellow –?”

“WHAT?” Blitzø interrupted, eyes blowing wide. Stolas’ eyes widened, too.

“I-is he not the one you have, erm, feelings for…?” Blitzø’s mouth was open in shock. Then he started laughing, eyes squinting adorably and cheek pressed into the couch cushion.

“I’m gonna piss myself!” he wheezed, still laughing as he shifted to lay on his back, letting go of Stolas’ hand to hold his sides and kick his feet. Stolas felt his face heat up in embarrassment. He quickly lifted himself up on his forearm, looking down at Blitzø.

“Oh yes continue to make fun of me!” Stolas said, exasperated. He moved to get off the couch, but then Blitzø reached for him, gently pulling him back down.

“Not so fast, big bird,” Blitzø said, moving back to rest on his side so they were facing each other once more. “I’m not makin’ fun of you. Promise,” he said, wiping a tear from his eye. “It’s just – have I thought about Moxxie ‘n I banging one out years ago? Eh, sure, but I’ve never had feelings for him. No way. Noooooo way. He and Millie were definitely made for each other. Vanilla freaks.”

“Oh,” Stolas said, feeling incredibly stupid. And he had no idea what marriage had to do with ice cream flavors. Did those two really love vanilla that much? He never realized such a simple shared interest could lead to a successful, loving marriage. Blitzø smiled at him, moving to hold Stolas’ hand again. He went back to wrapping his tail around Stolas’ thigh.

“Look at you, actin’ like a sexy detective,” Blitzø observed, still looking amused. "I can still see the gears turning in that pretty head of yours."

“Why do I still get the sense that you're making fun of me?” Stolas asked with a pout, moving to rest his cheek against the couch again. Blitzø brought Stolas’ hand to his lips, pressing a kiss against his knuckles.

“I’m just happy we cleared that up,” he explained. “Woulda never guessed you got that idea. Moxxie did mention something about you having it out for him. Guess he was right for once.”

“I wasn’t – I don’t – I was just -” Stolas struggled to explain.

“Jealous?” Blitzø asked, clearly biting back his grin as he tried and failed to keep an innocent expression on his face. Stolas scoffed, a smile of his own forming. He remembered how Blitzø told him that his jealousy over that prick at the bar was 'hot'. So Blitzø must be enjoying this.

“Possibly,” was all Stolas offered. His gaze flicked down to Blitzø’s lips. Blitzø seemed to notice, and he gave Stolas another kiss, this one short but still full of that sweetness.

To think that only an hour ago he was picking at his food in his ornate dining hall while Stella yelled at him. Being here with Blitzø – lying on his couch as they kissed and talked through things in such a way that felt safe and honest and lighthearted – it was like getting to exhale for the first time in years.

Stolas couldn’t look away, eyes roaming over Blitzø’s expression, drinking him in, their faces only inches apart, the feeling of Blitzø’s lips and tongue and hands still lingering like the most welcome brand. Then he noticed that Blitzø was struggling to keep his eyes open, sweat still on his brow. Right. That fever.

“You should get some rest,” Stolas said quietly, letting go of Blitzø’s hand so he could graze his talons comfortingly along his back.

“Nah. Not gonna fall asleep on ya when you came all the way over here,” Blitzø mumbled stubbornly, even though his eyes were already closed.

“Hmm. Then how about you finish your tea?” Stolas suggested, continuing to rub Blitzø’s back in slow, gentle turns.

“But this feels nice,” Blitzø protested, winding his tail more tightly around Stolas’ leg and pressing his forehead into Stolas’ chest. Stolas let out a quiet laugh, feeling his face warm.

“Five more minutes, then. And afterwards you’ll finish your tea. Deal?”

“Hmph. Fine,” Blitzø grumbled, wrapping his arms around Stolas and snuggling into him. “But make it ten. And you should drink the tea too, so ya don’t get sick.” Stolas giggled, expression soft.

“I think I’m already doomed, Blitzy,” he whispered, teasing, but it appeared that Blitzø had already fallen asleep, his breathing slow and steady. Stolas continued to rub his back, content to watch over him.

Stolas’ curiosity got the better of him. Once he was confident that Blitzø was fast asleep, he found himself wandering around the apartment, captivated by every detail. He couldn’t imagine living in such a small space himself, but there was something cozy and lived-in about it.

He thought about the way voices echoed in the palace dining room. How everything was always spotless. How he usually ate alone. He glanced at Blitzø’s kitchen. He could picture Blitzy cooking at the stove, wearing a sexy apron, flour on his cheek as he hummed to himself. He could picture himself and Octavia sitting at the table, grimoire open as he taught her a new spell. Loona would be leaning against the counter, scrolling on her phone and pretending not to be interested. Maybe she would recommend that Octavia learn a spell that put out fires, making some remark about how Blitzø was bound to start one. Stolas tittered to himself, covering his smile with his hand out of habit. He realized what he was doing and set his hand down, continuing to smile openly.

Perhaps he could imagine living in a place like this.

He stopped to stand in front of the calendar, once again looking at Blitzy’s doodles. One that caught his eye was at the end of this week, only three days from now. There was a little pointy blob, a square, and the words ‘GIT BOOK GIT RICH’. Hm. Was Blitzy planning to buy some ‘how to get rich quick’ book? He would have to remember to advise Blitzø against that – those books were often unhelpful. Mere moneymakers for the authors themselves.

But that pointy blob…was that meant to be a crown? Did it have to do with Blitzy’s arrangement with Paimon? Did his father promise him some valuable book as part of his payment? One he could sell? Maybe that was why they were currently living off of ‘chump change’, according to Loona. It was because Blitzø hadn’t received the book yet.  

Stolas thought about his grimoire. Was there any way that that’s what the doodle was referring to? No, that would be ridiculous. His father wouldn’t give the grimoire away to anyone other than a Goetia. Gifting it to an imp would be highly illegal. And he wouldn’t take it away from Stolas when it was such an integral part of his job.

Stolas’ attention shifted, satisfied with his conclusions. Besides, this doodle wasn’t the only perplexing detail in the apartment. Stolas had noticed that Blitzø’s face had been scribbled out of every picture decorating the wall. Did Blitzy do that himself? Whatever for? Did he not like how he looked in them? Or was there a deeper reason? Stolas reached out, resting his talons gently against one of the pictures. He couldn’t help but feel sad looking at it.

He wished they hadn’t been tampered with.

He moved to the bathroom, looking over at the couch. Blitzy was still fast asleep, Stolas’ cape tucked under his chin as he snored softly. Stolas had laid it over Blitzø when he mumbled something about being cold, his fever finally having broken. Stolas found himself smiling. Then he furrowed his brow.

His life had been surrounded by beauty. Aesthetic beauty that was bought or inherited. Celestial beauty that could only be accessed with his grimoire. He’d been raised to believe that the best, most precious things in life were the things that were difficult to obtain, that were exclusive. That’s why it was so special to be a Goetia. That’s why he was supposed to be happy with his life.

But if that was true, then why, in this small, unassuming apartment, did this snoring imp look so alluring?

Perhaps precious things, precious moments, didn’t always need to be bought or hoarded. Perhaps Goetia, with so much wealth and power, still lacked some very valuable things.

These weren’t exactly new doubts of his. But he’d never had such tangible evidence to prove his suspicions before. He walked past the kitchen, glancing at the now empty mug by the sink, as well as the leftover pizza box on the counter. He entered the bathroom a few strides later. The wet towel he used was already hanging on the shower railing to dry. 

He stopped in front of the mirror. If someone told him a few days ago what he’d be doing right now, he wouldn’t have believed it. It felt as if he’d been transported into some fantastic story where he was somehow the main character, and Blitzy had been put here to sweep him off his feet. To help him towards his happily ever after. He let out a laugh of disbelief, shaking his head. Would they ride off into the sunset on the back of a horse? Was that how this story would end? He had a feeling Blitzy would enjoy that.

He touched his fingertips to his beak, remembering the feeling of Blitzø’s lips. Blitzø wasn’t his clown for the day anymore, so he kissed Stolas because he wanted to. Stolas thought about their drunken hookup. Blitzø had been more distant then, more distracted, more like he was putting on a performance he hoped Stolas would approve of. The kiss they just shared, however, seemed to go beyond wanting, beyond performance.

But he still couldn’t comprehend how Blitzø could have feelings for someone like him, especially so quickly. It was a thought that was impossible to let go of. Stolas was sheltered. Awkward. Ridiculous. Inexperienced. Possessive. Ignorant of so many things and yet he babbled on about subjects that no one else was interested in. Not particularly attractive. Not interesting in any meaningful way…

He stared at his reflection in the mirror, seeing his frown, the way he hugged his arms to his chest, the anxious look in his eyes.

Perhaps he could understand why Blitzø would scribble himself out of his own photos after all. Although there was no reason for someone as great as Blitzø to feel such a way. Stolas, on the other hand...

He looked away from his reflection, his stomach twisting into knots. Then he noticed a small box on the rim of the sink. Carefully nestled inside was the red skull pendant he’d seen Blitzy wear, either on his belt or around his neck. Stolas had noticed a handful of occasions when Blitzø would hold it when he seemed off-kilter. He wondered what its significance was. He had the sense that it was special. Another gift from that mysterious someone?

He sighed, turning to lean his back against the sink. He looked at the couch through the doorway. He had so many questions. Would be okay to ask Blitzø about all of these things later? How would he react?

One burning question he had was about the status of their relationship. Blitzø didn’t have feelings for Moxxie. That had been an embarrassing misunderstanding on Stolas’ end. Blitzø appeared to have feelings for Stolas, deeper than merely physical. But there was still this mysterious other individual. Yet again he was wondering who could’ve obtained that crystal from Asmodeus to gift to Blitzø. He was back to square one.

He shook his head, stepping away from the sink. It didn’t matter. He was a pirate. He was brave. He took risks, now.

And Blitzø wouldn't have kissed him like that if he didn’t have space in his heart for Stolas. If Stolas didn’t have some sway.

Right?

Perhaps it was time for Stolas to make space in his life as well. To provide room for something new to grow. To prune what had been trying so terribly hard to choke out anything good that tried to take root.

He left the bathroom, gaze gravitating back to Blitzø. He stopped when he saw the furrow in Blitzø’s brow, the way he was moving around, looking agitated. He moved over to the couch. Did his fever return?

“Stolas, no,” Blitzø mumbled. “No no Stolas you can’t – can’t do this.” Stolas quickly moved to sit on the floor next to Blitzø, beak parted in surprise. What could he be dreaming about? Was this – was this one of those nightmares he was referring to? Blitzø had mentioned something about having nightmares where he lost Stolas. But…why? “Please. Get off me. Stolas –” Stolas’ eyes widened. Was Stolas doing something wrong? Was he hurting Blitzø in this nightmare?

“Please –” Blitzø said in a shuddering breath. Stolas reached out, placing a hand on Blitzø’s head, between his horns. He rubbed his thumb back and forth slowly.

“It’s okay,” Stolas said quietly. “You’ll be okay, Blitzy,” he said coaxingly. “You’re safe. I won’t let anything hurt you.” Blitzø’s expression slowly started to relax.

“Stols,” he whispered, nuzzling into Stolas’ touch. Something about that sounded strangely familiar, but he couldn’t place where he’d heard that before. But it didn’t matter. He let out a sigh of relief, thankful that he was able to chase the nightmare away without having to wake him. But what if it returned?

He remembered there being a spell that ensured pleasant dreams. He waved his hand as he looked at Blitzø, calling over his grimoire. He’d used the spell years ago, when Octavia was younger and used to have nightmares of him disappearing. He’d tried to explain to her that she would be okay even after he was gone, but the nightmares stubbornly returned anyway.

A few moments passed and he realized that the grimoire hadn’t reached his hand yet. He frowned, looking over at his bag. Then he raised both brows as he watched the grimoire repeatedly butt against the couch cushion Blitzø wasn’t curled up on. Why was it doing that? It was glowing strangely again as well.

Curious, Stolas quietly crawled over to the other side of the couch, still on the floor. He lifted up his cape, careful not to disturb Blitzø. The grimoire floated under the cape and nudged the space between the cushion and the bottom of the couch. Was there something under the cushion? Stolas glanced over at Blitzø. He was still sleeping, looking peaceful once more.

‘It wouldn’t hurt to take a look, would it?’ Stolas thought to himself. It was probably nothing. The grimoire was just acting up for some reason. But he couldn’t ignore the anxious feeling in his chest. The grimoire didn’t simply ‘act up’. He steeled himself, taking a breath. Then he stuck his hand under the couch cushion. His hand met something hard and rectangular. After further investigation it felt like a book. Stolas grabbed the spine, slowly slipping it out from the couch cushion. It only took a millisecond for his eyes to widen.

“Wh-what? How can…?” Stolas whispered to himself, shaking his head in disbelief as he looked down at the grimoire. He lifted his gaze to look at the other grimoire, his grimoire, which was still floating in the air. It moved to press against this grimoire, as if they were two halves suddenly reunited. This other grimoire was glowing in the same way.

Stolas’ mind was reeling now. Why was this here? There was only one grimoire. Was this a fake? But he could sense its magical energy, so similar to his grimoire’s. No, exactly like his grimoire’s. Stolas’ gaze flicked over to the calendar.

A book. A crown. GIT BOOK GIT RICH. Something about this gave him a sick feeling. Had there been more to Blitzø’s arrangement with Paimon? Blitzø had said that Stolas’ ‘birthday surprise’ was for 24-hours only, but what if there was another agreement that was made?

Could it be that, if Blitzø could manage to spend the whole week with Stolas, then his father would let him keep this…grimoire replica? Would his father really give something like this to an imp? An imp assassin at that? Wouldn't that still be illegal? It seemed that Blitzø was getting the better end of the deal, gaining a magical book that could help with his business. And his father wasn’t known for being charitable.

Or did his father think that spending so much time with Stolas was truly that much of a sacrifice?

Stolas swallowed, feeling the familiar sting of tears, a burn in his throat as he continued to look down at this grimoire. He wanted to believe that this was another misunderstanding. He’d already had his share of them. And yet, if this truly wasn’t something Stolas should be worried about, then why did it appear as though Blitzø had stashed this away? Why hadn’t Blitzø mentioned this at all?

“Uhhh, hello?” Loona said, “anyone here?” Stolas quickly slid this second grimoire back under the couch cushion, moving to his feet. Loona was standing in the doorway that led into the hall, Octavia behind her.

“Hello!” Stolas said loudly, surprised and a little frantic. Then he winced, looking over at Blitzø. He watched as Blitzø let out a quiet snore, and Stolas exhaled. Good. He quietly walked over to the girls, giving them a smile as he tried to ignore his racing thoughts for now. “You’re back,” he said, keeping his voice low. “How was it? Did you two have fun? Find anything interesting?”

“Some stuff was cool, I guess,” Loona said with a shrug, letting the door shut behind them.

“I bought a new record,” Octavia said, moving to stand next to Loona and patting the bag on her shoulder. “We’re going to find a day to listen to it back at the palace. It’s this band we like.”

“Yeah, ‘Fuck You Dad’,” Loona said with a smirk. Stolas’ eyes widened slightly. Then he let out an amused puff of air. Right. He remembered Octavia mentioning that band before. The name always managed to catch him off guard.

“That sounds wonderful, girls,” he said. He would just need to make sure that Stella didn’t have a fit about Loona visiting. She was always…particular about the friends Octavia brought to the palace. She only allowed Octavia to spend time with girls with ‘proper upbringings’. But Octavia never got along with those girls, which meant that she never had friends over. “I thought you would let me know when you needed a portal. I would’ve been happy to ‘pick you up’ –”

“It was nice to walk around,” Octavia said with a shrug. "Explore."

“What?” Loona said, glancing back at the couch. “Were you two doing something you didn’t want us to see?”

“No!” Stolas blurted out, then winced again, hoping that that wasn’t too loud. He couldn't help but think about the second grimoire. Should he have stashed it away in his bag instead? Was it wise to leave it here? Should he bring it up now and demand to take it with him? But this could all be another misunderstanding on his part.

He clasped his hands in front of him. Yes. He would pretend that nothing was amiss for now. He needed to give this more thought, and then determine a course of action.

“Blitzy is fast asleep. I expect he’ll be feeling much better once he wakes up.”

“Good,” Loona said with a nod. “I can take over from here, then. Figured his whiny bitch syndrome would go away once you showed up. He’d been muttering your name in his sleep, so I figured I should just call you. It was easy-as-fuck to get him to tell me his password. He was basically delirious.”

“He was muttering my dad’s name in his sleep?” Octavia asked with a raised brow, looking over at Loona. Stolas felt his cheeks warm.

“We did spend much of a day together, dearest. So those events were likely front of mind due to their recency.”

“Hm,” was all Octavia said in reply, meeting his gaze. “Can we go home then? You’re done here, right?” Stolas couldn’t help but look over at the couch, although he couldn’t see Blitzø from where they were standing by the door.

“Yes…I’m done here.” He walked over to the couch to get his bag, placing it over his shoulder. His eyes widened when he noticed his grimoire was back to pressing against the couch cushion. He grabbed it, putting it in his bag. Then he snuck a final glance at Blitzø, who was still snoring softly. Even with all this sudden confusion, he couldn’t help his soft smile.

“I brewed some extra tea with honey and put it in the fridge, just in case he needs it,” he told Loona, voice quiet as he walked back over to them. He pulled his grimoire back out, letting it float in the air as he readied a portal. But rather than cooperating, it began drifting back to the couch, emitting that unusual color again. Stolas hastily grabbed it, shutting it closed. He frowned as he looked at it. Since when did it get so stubborn? Then he lifted his gaze to see Loona’s raised brow. He watched as she looked at the grimoire, and then over at the couch.

Just how much did Loona know? Was she aware of the second grimoire under the couch? Then another thought occurred to him. This was risky, and exceptionally nosy, but maybe it would be okay for him to ask. Maybe this was somehow connected –

“You good?” Loona asked, hand on her hip. She glanced at the grimoire again before looking back at Stolas. Octavia was giving Stolas her own look of confusion.

“Actually,” Stolas said, tapping his talons nervously against the cover of his book. “I was just wondering, out of curiosity...do you happen to know who gifted Blitzy his crystal?” Loona’s eyes widened a fraction, but then her expression quickly shifted into something neutral. Oh?

“You don’t already know?” she asked vaguely. Stolas shook his head.

“Should I?” He waited as Loona looked at him for a long moment, and then looked over at the couch.

“No. Guess not. Uh, I don't know either.”

“Really?” Stolas asked, surprised. Loona let out a scoff, still looking at the couch.

“Yeah. But maybe I’ll ask him.”

“Okay Dad, time to stop asking weird questions and take us home,” Octavia urged. She turned to Loona. “Let me know when you’re free to listen to this,” she said, patting her bag again. Loona tore her gaze from the couch, giving her a grin.

“Fuck yeah. I’ll text you.” Octavia beamed. Then she looked at Stolas expectantly. He gave her a nod, knowing that he’d stalled long enough, that he’d gathered all the information he was comfortable with inquiring about, at least for now. He spread his hands, a portal to the palace appearing.

“I hope to see you again soon, dear,” Stolas said, giving Loona a smile. There was something complicated in Loona’s expression.

“Yeah, sure. Thanks for hanging out here, I guess. Now get the fuck outta my apartment.” Stolas let out a laugh, giving her a nod, and together he and Octavia stepped through the portal, now standing in the hallway outside of Octavia’s room. Stolas stole one last glance at the couch as the portal closed.

“I’m going to go lay in bed and not talk to anyone,” Octavia said, slumping her shoulders. “I can’t remember the last time I socialized. It was fun, but exhausting.”

“What about our guitar lesson yesterday?” Stolas asked. “We spent quite a bit of time together.” Octavia rolled her eyes.

“That doesn’t count. You’re my dad.”

“Hm. I’ll choose to take that as a compliment, dearest,” he said with a smile, giving Octavia a peck on the forehead.

“It is,” Octavia said honestly, and Stolas’ heart warmed.

“I feel the same,” he said, showering her with more kisses. She laughed, gently pushing him away.

“Okay, let’s not go overboard.” She opened her door, giving him another smile. “Maybe we can hang out later?”

“I would love that. Simply say the word.” She gave him a nod, then stepped into her room.

“Oh, sweetie! Before you rest, there was something I wanted to ask you.”

“Um, sure, go for it,” Octavia said, giving him a suspicious look. Stolas twined his fingers together, giving her a nervous smile.

“I was just wondering…what do you think of Blitzø?”

“What do I think of him?” Octavia asked, raising a brow.

“Yes, do you, erm, like spending time with him? Or…if you saw him more often, how would you feel about that?” He watched as Octavia crossed her arms, leaning against her doorframe as she looked away.

“I dunno,” she said with a shrug. “He’s fine, I guess. If that means I get to spend more time with Loona then I’m okay with him being around.” She flicked her gaze to look at him. “You seem to enjoy spending time with him. That weird clown job is over, right? Is this your way of telling me that you two are going to keep being friends?”

“Would you be okay with that?” Stolas asked. Octavia scoffed.

“Does it matter what I think?”

"Of course it matters, sweetie," Stolas said. She paused, considering the question.

“I guess…it might be good for you to have a friend. Now that I’ll be busier hanging out with Loona.” 

“And if the four of us go on another trip?” Octavia shrugged.

“Yeah, that could be fun. Mum’s not invited?” her tone was half-teasing, half something else. Stolas let out a nervous laugh.

“I doubt your mother would be interested in joining,” he explained. Octavia nodded. Stolas reached out to give her shoulder a squeeze. “For the record, I would love to spend all my time with you, dearest,” he said. “But I am happy that you made a new friend. That you are ‘spreading your wings’!” Octavia rolled her eyes, a smile tugging at her beak. “As long as you don’t abandon our little nest completely,” he added. “I would miss you too much. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”

“Yeah okay, I’m closing the door now,” Octavia said, pushing off the doorframe to step back into her room. Stolas took a step back, giving her a smile and a slight bow of his head. But she hesitated once more. "I guess I'm glad you're 'spreading your wings' or whatever too. You've seemed...happier, the past couple days." Stolas looked at her in surprise, but before he could say anything more she closed the door.

Stolas did a deep inhale followed by a slow exhale, relaxing his shoulders as he now stood in the hallway alone. The past few days had felt like their own, unique whirlwinds. He could only imagine what tomorrow would bring. Regardless, it was nice to know that Octavia seemed to like Blitzø enough. And she was right, these past few days had made Stolas feel happier than he had in a while. This all felt like a step forward, a step towards something…good. A new chapter. New roots.

But there were still things he needed to address today. Things he needed to understand before he closed this current chapter. Specifically, he needed to know why Blitzø had a replica of his grimoire. He doubted that it was anything serious, but it also wasn’t the kind of thing he could leave unaddressed. The grimoire was part of his duty after all.

He walked down the hall, heading for his study. He wanted to believe that this was nothing to worry about. Blitzø cared about him. And he was a terrible liar. So he couldn't, wouldn’t do anything to hurt Stolas, would he? He turned the corner, fidgeting with his hands. No, there had to be a perfectly reasonable explanation. He would look through his books to see if there was anything about replicating magical items. He wanted to begin by gaining a better understanding as to whether it was possible to even replicate the grimoire. Based on what he found he would decide what to do next.

He heard a familiar ring, pulling him from his thoughts. He pulled his phone out of his bag as he continued to walk, looking at the caller ID. He frowned. He didn’t recognize the number. He answered it, putting the phone to his ear.

“Hello?” he asked uncertainly.

“Stolas! It’s me, Asmodeus.” Stolas’ eyes widened further. He stopped in the middle of the hall.

“Oh! Erm, what a surprise, sire. I didn’t realize you had my number.”

“I didn’t, but it wasn’t hard for someone with my connections to find,” Asmodeus explained. “Anyway, my partner – uh, business partner,” he continued, clearing his throat, “told me that he met you in a plant shop in Greed the other day.”

“Did he?” Stolas asked, trying to remember. “Oh! Oh.” He remembered the tense exchange he had with that imp clown that was being so mean to Blitzy. “Hm. Yes, I do remember having a short conversation.” He was trying to figure out what the purpose of this call was. Was Asmodeus unhappy with how Stolas had spoken to his business partner?

“Fizz also mentioned that you were with some imp guy he knew a long time ago – a Blitzo?”

“Ah, Blitzø. Yes, my father had arranged for him to keep me company for the day –”

“Keep you company, eh? How kinky are we talking?”

“N-not like that,” Stolas said, laughing nervously, “He was my clown for the day. It was a surprise for my birthday –”

“Oh? So you’re not close with him.”

“I – well – I wouldn’t – I mean – that is a complicated question –”

“Yikes. Looks like your relationship is what’s complicated. Not my question,” Asmodeus observed. Stolas cringed.

“If you don’t mind me asking, sire, what is this call about exactly?”

“Riiiight, well Fizz noticed that your ‘birthday clown’ was wearing one of my crystals on his wrist.”

“You sound…surprised by that information,” Stolas said slowly. That uneasy feeling returned. He gripped the phone more tightly, resuming his walk to his study.

“Surprised is an understatement,” Asmodeus said. “I would never allow him to have one of my crystals, given my, um, business partner’s hatred towards him.”

“Are you suggesting that he stole it?” Stolas asked. But Blitzø had told him that the crystal was a gift, that the demon Blitzø had feelings for had convinced Asmodeus to register it under Blitzø’s name. Had Blitzø been lied to?

“That’s the strange part. I assumed that he stole it. But I checked my inventory and nothing is missing.” Asmodeus paused. “Have you seen him use the crystal to make portals?” Stolas hesitated. “Stolas, you know it wouldn’t be wise to lie to the King of Lust, yes?” His tone was clearly threatening.

“It’s only – I wouldn’t want to – this may all just be a misunderstanding –”

“You don’t know that fuckface like I do!” That imp from before – Fizz – was suddenly on the phone. “He’s a spineless prick that’ll screw over even his best friend!” Stolas worried at his bottom lip. “There’s no point in trying to protect that asshole. I can promise that he’s only screwing you over, too.”

"C'mon, spit it out, Stolas," Asmodeus said, tone firm. Stolas swallowed thickly, throat suddenly dry.

“What would it mean if I have seen him use the crystal to make portals?” he asked.

“That means that he really does have one of my crystals,” Asmodeus explained. “Not just some non-magical look-a-like. Which is impossible.” He scoffed. “Unless a crystal imbued with my magic suddenly appeared out of thin air without me knowing.”

“Orrrrr someone managed to create perfect replicas and are selling them on some kinda black market,” Fizz suggested. Stolas’ eyes widened slightly. He thought about the second grimoire. Had someone managed to replicate rare magical items and was distributing them to the greater population?

“What do you think, Stolas?” Asmodeus asked. “I shouldn’t have to convince you of how big of a problem that would be.” Stolas shook his head.

“No. No convincing needed,” he agreed. He took a deep breath, finally reaching his study. He opened the door, slipping inside. “I will look into this, sire. I believe that there is indeed something strange going on, but we shouldn’t be too hasty until we are certain we know what that something is. And who the mastermind may be. There is a chance that Blitzy has no clue –”

“Ha! As if!” Fizz interrupted, tone biting. “Unless he’s the biggest dumbass in Hell.” He paused, “Shit, which actually could be possible…"

“Clearly there is much we are uncertain of at the moment,” Stolas pointed out. “So gathering more knowledge is my suggested course of action.”

“Hmm. Fine. I’ll follow your lead. For now,” Asmodeus said. “But I can only be patient for so long. I’m not about to jeopardize my reputation for some imp my partner - business partner - doesn't fuck with.”

“Understood. I will keep you updated on what I find,” Stolas promised. He massaged his temple, heading for his bookshelves. His eyes scanned over to the titles. “Is there any other information that I should know?”

“Only a reminder. Don’t let this imp fool you, Stolas.”

“He’d betray his own family if it served him,” Fizz said, something honest and bitter in his tone. “If he hadn’t already lost them all.” Stolas frowned. But Blitzy clearly cared for his employees. He even called them his family. And he adored his daughter…

Stolas shook his head. He couldn’t imagine Blitzø ever betraying them. Whatever version of Blitzø Fizz was referring to, Stolas didn’t believe that that was the same Blitzy he had gotten to know these past few days.

“Right. I will keep that in mind,” he decided to say. There was no point in arguing over this, at least while they still knew so little.

“I’ll be calling again soon if I don’t hear from you,” Asmodeus warned. “Oh, and happy birthday!”

“Oh, well, actually my birthday was - was quite a while ago…” Stolas tried to explain. “Nevermind. Thank you. I will keep in touch.”

“AND DON’T CALL MY BABY UGLY AGAIN!” Asmodeus yelled into the phone. Stolas’ eyes widened as the call ended. What was that about? He stared at his bookshelf, shaking his head as he turned off his phone, dropping his hand to his side.

Things simply weren’t adding up. Blitzy had to be a victim in all this, too. Somehow. Whatever this even was. Blitzø had mentioned that he'd been extorted back then, when he stole things from the palace when they were children. Who was to say that something similar wasn’t happening here? Stolas’ eyes widened as a thought occurred to him.

Perhaps this someone that Blitzø had feelings for was the true villain. Perhaps this someone gifted Blitzø the crystal replica and planted the grimoire replica in Blitzø’s apartment knowing they were illegal. Perhaps to put the heat on Blitzø instead, in case the operation came to light. Perhaps this someone was using Blitzø to satisfy his own desires, taking advantage of Blitzø’s feelings for him in the process.

He gripped his phone tightly in his hand. What a monster!

Wait. As much as it served him to believe that his romantic competition was some supervillain, he needed more information before he let his imagination run completely wild. And he knew one source of information that would likely be helpful, as nervous as he was to make such a call. He needed to confirm something, a quiet suspicion he’d been ignoring until now. He took a deep breath, steeling himself. He walked over to his chair, sitting down. Then he dialed the number, pressing his phone to his ear.

“Yes? What is it? Lucky for you I'm not busy at the moment.”

“Hello, Father. I will make it quick,” Stolas promised, straightening his posture.

“Oh. It’s you,” Paimon said, tone as disinterested as ever.

“I am calling you to thank you for the gift,” Stolas explained. He held his breath, knowing that his father’s response would have a vital influence on how he would proceed.

“Gift?” Stolas’ heart sunk. But he could’ve simply forgotten. That wasn’t out of the question, based on past experiences.

“You arranged for that imp I played with as a child to spend the day with me,” Stolas explained, desperately hoping that his father would remember. “As a surprise for my birthday.”

“Oh? Uh, happy birthday.”

“It’s not…yes. Thank you, Father,” Stolas said. “So you truly don’t remember anything about this?”

Please remember. Please let this be true.

“Hmmmm…actually!” Paimon said, tone suddenly more engaged than it was moments before. Stolas’ expression lit up. “There was something I wanted to talk to you about! I’ve been hearing rumors that you've been acting quite friendly with an imp in public. Of course you can have affairs with whoever you want, but if it’s with an imp you need to keep that very much outside of the public eye, understand? The reputation of the Ars Goetia is your greatest priority.”

“O-oh, um,” Stolas said, feeling himself flounder. He could never say no to his father. “Y-yes, I understand.”

“Ha! You’re just like your father after all! I was wondering when you’d have your first affair!” Paimon said, letting out a laugh. “I just hope that one day you’ll develop better taste! Now I’m very busy, so –”

“Wait!” Stolas said, gripping his phone. “A-apologies, but I also have a question about the grimoire. Did you happen to make a new one recently, or have plans to? One that looks just like mine –”

“Now why would I do something like that?” Thankfully his father hadn’t hung up. “Don’t tell me you did something stupid and lost yours –”

“No! O-of course not! I only – I just wanted to confirm. Thank you, Father. That was all.”

“Wow, I’m so good at Daddy-ing! How lucky you are to be part of this family. Bye now!”

“Y-yes, goodbye Fa–!” Stolas began, but he’d already hung up. Stolas set his phone down on his desk, posture still straight.

Blitzø had known Stolas’ coffee order. What plants Stolas liked. That Stolas had a human disguise. He knew Andrealphus and the magic he wielded. And Stols. He remembered now. He’d seen the name ‘Stols’ in Blitzø’s contact list. Blitzø had called him ‘Stols’ in his sleep, hadn’t he? Had he already had Stolas’ number after all?

Blitzø had said that his ‘friend’ convinced Asmodeus to register a crystal under his name, so that he could run his business. And yet Blitzø and his employees had just done a job in Sloth, when Blitzø had told Stolas back at the diner that they did jobs in the living world.

He had been in Octavia’s closet for a reason Stolas now knew he was unaware of. He rested his elbows on his desk, putting his head in his hands. Why was he in Octavia’s room?

Blitzø had confessed that Stolas didn’t know all of his fuck-ups yet. He told Stolas that he deserved better, and he looked so guilty as he said it. He said he cared about not messing this – whatever relationship existed between them – up, and mentioned having already messed it up.

Stolas had a sick feeling in his stomach, his head full of twisting, anxious thoughts he couldn’t make sense of. He pressed his palms against his lower eyes, feeling his throat burn as he held back frustrated tears.

He opened his desk drawer, finding his bottle of ‘happy pills’. He opened the cap, pulling out one, no, three tablets and swallowing them. Then he leaned back in his chair, hugging his arms to himself as he looked at the small golden moons around the edge of his desk.

Perhaps Blitzø was a good liar after all.

No. Everything was so painfully obvious in retrospect.

The truth was that Stella was right – Stolas was a naïve idiot. He’d gotten too caught up in his own fantasies to accept what was actually going on. He had allowed himself to start believing that he could change his circumstances, that he had control over his life.

But his life had never been his. Not to control, not to change, and not to share with someone he cared so deeply for.

As always, he was merely a pawn for others to use as they pleased.

Chapter Text

Fuck yeah. This had gotta be a new record. He was probably spinning a hundred plates at this point, wooden rods pressed into every part of his body as he kept his balance, looking around to make sure none of them were about to tilt off. The plates were crimson and gold, sleek surfaces catching the circus lights. He dug his heel into the hard-packed dirt at the center of the ring, other leg lifted. He stuck his tongue out in concentration as the audience cheered. They’d never cheered like this before.

He hoped Fizz was watching. They were definitely gonna celebrate later. He’d swipe a bottle of shitty bottom-shelf booze from his dad’s stash while Fizz kept him distracted. The usual operation. He’d even let Barb tag along, since he was such a good twin. He’d just have to make sure she didn’t down the entire bottle herself. Ha. Greedy little shit.

“When you rely on someone else it just fucks you over!” the yell from the audience collided right into the center of Blitzø’s train of thought. He snapped his head over to look at the stands, trying to spot the heckler that sounded so much like Barb. That was a mistake. Plates began to fall around him, shattering against the dirt.

“No!” Blitzø said, desperately trying to find his balance again, but it was no use. Wooden rods buckled and clattered against the ground. All of them. He couldn't even manage to grab a single plate before it fell.

He stood there, looking around at the jagged pieces of red and gold surrounding him. He’d fucked it after all. He pressed his palms against his eyes, shaking his head. He’d been doing a good job. He’d finally managed to pull it off. He’d been starting to believe he actually got better at this.

The audience was laughing at him now. The laughter was cruel, as if they’d been waiting for him to mess up this whole time.

Usually this was when Fizz would swoop in and shift all the attention on himself, saving the performance and Blitzø’s ass with some new amazing trick and cheesy smile. But he wasn't there. Would he come by after the show to help him pick up the pieces? Like he did before? There were so many of them.

“Oh Blitzo,” a gentle voice said, and Blitzø looked up to see his mom standing in front of him, hands clasped together and a kind, sympathetic smile on her face. “My silly boy. Why were you trying to keep all these plates spinning? Nobody asked you to do that.”

“But Dad –” Blitzø said, looking around the ring. But he wasn’t there either. “I can do it, Mom! If I just try hard enough, I can keep even more plates spinning easy! I just need another try! I’ll show ‘em!”

“Them? Who are you doing this for, my little firecracker?” Blitzø looked out into the stands, but realized there was nobody in the audience, only pitch-black darkness. 

“I…I thought…” Blitzø clenched and unclenched his fists, taking a step back. He heard porcelain crack under his boot. The shifting circus lights were giving him vertigo. The sad look in his mom’s eyes made it hard to breathe. “Myself,” he choked out, finally honest. He looked at the ground in embarrassment. “It’s not impossible. Not if I can do it one more time – just one more –”

“Did you hate the first time that much?” Blitzø looked up in surprise to see Stolas sitting in the stands, a single spotlight on him. He was wearing the dark purple sweater Blitzø had stolen for him, pupils trained right on Blitzø as he smiled sadly. “I suppose you did say you preferred a happier version of me. It appears you got what you wanted.”

“I didn’t mean it like that!” Blitzø said, taking a step forwards this time, more porcelain cracking beneath his heel. But he hesitated, not wanting to leave his mom, who was still standing in front of him.

“Wooooow. Destroyed this bird’s life so you fuck off to the past to find another one, huh?” Another spotlight appeared. Barbie was sitting a few rows in front of Stolas and to the left of him. She narrowed her eyes at Blitzø. “Typical.”

“Yeah, running away when things get hard again.” Blitzø craned his neck to see Fizz at the top of the trapeze platform, his robotic hands on his hips as he bent over to glare down at him. “Wanna make some stupid joke cuz of my word choice? Easier to do that than face the truth, right asshole?”

“I didn’t raise ya to think you’re worth another chance,” his dad said, appearing out of nowhere to stand next to his mom, looking bored as he stroked his goatee. “So ya must’ve learned it from her. She was always too soft with you –” he pointed his thumb at his mom. Blitzø glared at him.

“You don’t deserve to even breathe the same air as her, dickwad,” he growled, clenching his fists.

“Ha! Guess ya solved that by killing her!” he shot back, and Blitzø’s eyes widened, expression falling. A blaring spotlight shone down on Blitzø now, all the other lights turning off, throwing the rest of the shitty circus tent into darkness.

“No, no, I didn’t - I didn't mean to –!” Blitzø said, clutching the sides of his head as he squeezed his eyes shut. “It was an accident! If I knew what would happen I – I would've - I -” he felt a gentle hand on his cheek, and he opened his eyes to see his mom in the spotlight with him, smiling softly. He dropped his hands from his head, looking up at her.

“My little firecracker,” she said with all the care in the world. “Even if you did know beforehand, you’d find a way to ruin everything. You always did. And you always will.”

Blitzø felt a burn in his throat. His vision was blurry with his own tears. He’d take getting shot to this feeling any day.

“Mom,” he choked out, but he couldn’t say anything else.

“I wish you didn’t leave me, Blitzø,” Stolas’ voice whispered from somewhere in the darkness. “I could really use another one of your hugs right about now. I’m still your Stolas, aren’t I?” Before Blitzø could say or do anything more, the scene melted around him, falling away until he felt like he was falling.

He jolted up on the couch, breathing heavy as he looked around his apartment wildly. He realized he was clutching Stolas’ cape, pressing it against his chest. He loosened his grip, moving to wipe tears from his eyes. The fuck? Why was he crying? He couldn’t remember what he’d been dreaming about, details already fuzzy, but he did have an unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach.

He flung the cape off of him, quickly getting up from the couch and heading for the bathroom. He pulled his clothes from the shower railing, changing out of his favorite horse t-shirt and shorts and into his red turtleneck and black pants. He slipped his bracers on. Then he walked over to the sink, gingerly pulling his red skull pendant from its box and attaching it to the fabric on his throat. He looked at it for a lingering moment in the mirror, that unsettling feeling still in his stomach, and then he splashed some cold water on his face. He left the bathroom, heading towards the door and pulling on his boots, hopping around as he did so. He glanced out the window. It looked like it was late, but not too late to drop by…

“Where’re you off to in such a hurry?” Loona asked, sitting at the kitchen table, phone in hand. Had she been there the whole time?

“I’m feelin’ a lot better now, so I figured I, uh, go for a walk…”

“Bullshit,” Loona said, unimpressed. “You’re gonna go see him.”

“You say ‘him’ like I know who you’re talkin’ about,” Blitzø said evasively, looking around the apartment. “Do ya mean Moxxie? Cuz I got my fill of that whiny switch yesterday –”

“Whatever. I don’t actually care what you do,” she said, rolling her eyes. Blitzø walked over to the table on the right of the door, spotting his jacket. He picked it up and began rummaging through the pockets, tongue sticking out in concentration.

“Gotcha!” he said, pulling out the packet of seeds that the weirdo at the plant shop gave him. Good. He wondered if he lost ‘em during the job. Or if one of those kidnapping cockbags had swiped it off him while he was knocked out. He set his jacket back down on the table, slipping the seed packet into his pants’ pocket. He turned to face Loona and noticed she was glancing at the couch, seemingly lost in thought. “You okay, Loonie?” She looked over at him. He could’ve sworn she looked down at his crystal for a millisecond before meeting his gaze.

“I should be asking you that question,” she pointed out. “You were basically bed-ridden earlier today. I had to call in reinforcements.” Blitzø scratched his cheek.

“So Stolas really was here?” he asked, trying to sound casual. Seeing Stolas suddenly show up in non-royal clothes had thrown him off at first. For a sec he wondered if he wound up back in the future somehow.

“Yeah. Fancypants brought some special tea,” she confirmed. “The rest of it’s in the fridge. Want some?” It was all a bit hazy, but Blitzø could remember bits and pieces of Stolas’ visit. He definitely remembered them kissing on the couch. Not on his bingo card for today, and part of him was convinced he fucked it by jumping the gun too early on a kiss, but he couldn’t find it in himself to regret it. He missed kissing Stolas. And he was shit with words. He remembered feeling the need to communicate all he felt somehow, especially when he saw the sad expression on his bird’s face.

Their first kiss. He thought back to the last kiss they had, him and future Stolas kissing while they fell through icy air, sword in his hand and Stolas’ warm cheek in the other.

But that wasn’t a kiss he shared with this Stolas. From where Blitzø was now – when – that kiss never happened, and never would. Blitzø furrowed his brow. That was a good thing. That meant they’d never go up against that frosty prick. That Stolas and Octavia would never have that fight.

So why did it still leave an ache?

“Hey,” Loona said, and Blitzø looked at her in surprise. She moved to stand, chair scraping across the floor. She put a hand on her hip. “Ya know, you’ve been acting weird-as-shit even before you got sick. Ever since you got that crystal.”

“Whaaaaat?” Blitzø said, giving her a wave of his hand as he blew up his cheeks. “Pssht. No.” Loona narrowed her eyes and Blitzø could feel his palms sweat. “Welp! Gotta go…walk around!” he started rubbing his crystal. “See ya later, Loonie!” The diamond-shaped portal opened up to the front entrance to Stolas’ palace.

“Walk my ass! I knew you were gonna go see him!” she said, baring her teeth in annoyance as she looked through the portal, but Blitzø leaped through it before she could get another word in, the portal closing behind him.

Yikes. That was a close one. He patted his pants pocket, checking that the seed packet was still in there. He just needed to do a quick, overdue delivery. Suuuper simple. He’d be in and out before that sweet bird puss even had time to clench.

He looked at the tall, fancy-ass door and considered knocking. But he didn’t wanna risk running into Stolas’ wife. He had a feeling that wouldn't go well. So he took the usual route, tried and true, cutting through the yard and climbing up the wall to Stolas’ balcony. He hoisted himself over the railing, careful not to eat shit, the faceplant from a few days ago still fresh in his memory. Thankfully the railing wasn’t covered in ice this time. Frosty bird prick.

He crept over to the edge of the balcony door, ear pressed against the glass. The room was dark and he couldn’t hear anything, so he quietly opened the door, slipping inside. There was no sound of snoring this time, and as he looked around, eyes adjusting to the darkness, he was confident that it really was empty.

He walked across the room and opened the door into the hallway. Then he wandered, careful to avoid being seen as he tried to guess where Stolas would be. It was when he made his tenth unsuccessful turn that he smelled something sweet. He reached to check the time on his phone and realized he forgot to bring it. Whatever. His guess was that they just finished dinner and were about to eat some fancy dessert. He followed the smell and it led him to the kitchen. He poked his head inside, looking around.

The only demon there was an imp standing on a golden stepstool by the counter, apron tied around her waist and little white, cylindrical hat on her head. She was humming to herself, mixing something in a bowl. An alarm began to ring, a tinny, jingling sound, and she reached over to the oven, pulling out a pan with three…somethings. Cakes? Brownies? Fuck if Blitzø knew. This had to be another expensive thing Stolas liked that Blitzø didn’t have the money to make for him. But maybe one day…

He watched, curious and taking mental notes as she set the pan down on a rack. Then she grabbed the bowl she’d been mixing stuff in and spread something that looked like red frosting on two of the cake-brownie things. Then she grabbed another, smaller bowl full of these red pom-poms. Still humming to herself, she grabbed a large handful and put them in the bowl of frosting, mixing again. She spread it on the third cake-brownie thing, but not the other two.

Wait. Red pom-poms. Why'd they look so damn familiar? He squinted his eyes. Then he realized. He reached for his gun, but no dice. He forgot to bring that too. He mentally smacked his forehead and stepped into the kitchen anyway.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he asked, and the imp almost fell off the stepstool. When she saw it was Blitzø standing there, not one of her employers, she glared at him.

“I coulda broken my neck, dickhead!” 

“Yeeeaaah you should be worried about much worse if ya don’t have a good explanation for why you’re putting poison in that dessert,” Blitzø said, putting a hand on his hip.

“What’re you talkin’ about?” she shot back, clearly annoyed.

“Those red pom-pom lookin’ things,” he said, nodding at the bowl. “Those are poisonous. And you just put a shit-ton of ‘em in that dessert specifically. Who’s supposed to be eating that one?”

“H-her highness dropped these off and told me that his highness loves these –” she began to explain, and Blitzø’s eyes narrowed, his anger rising. He walked over to her and she cowered, holding up her hands to protect her face. Blitzø grabbed the dessert meant for Stolas, the bowl full of poisonous pom-poms, and the bowl with the now poisonous frosting and walked over to the trash, dumping all of it inside. Then he pointed at the imp.

“That hag doesn’t know shit about what Stolas likes,” he said, tone crackling with aggression. “So next time she suggests anything, smile and nod and don’t do what she says, got it? Or else you're gonna get reeeaal up close and personal with my fancy cooking brick." She nodded her head furiously.

“Got it! I’m s-sorry –”

“You should be. Now where’s the prince?”

“Th-they should all be in the d-dining room –” she pointed in what Blitzø assumed was the direction of the dining room, hand shaking. He nodded.

“Thanks. And get a grip. Just don’t be so gullible next time, yeah? And you should learn a thing or two about poisons.” She kept nodding as he walked out of the kitchen, heading in the direction she pointed in. He shook his head. It was a good thing Stolas liked microdosing poison after all.

Then he stopped in the middle of the hallway, eyes wide. Or did Stolas do it cuz his wife had a habit of pulling this shit? It wasn’t some fucked hobby, but a line of defense. He furrowed his brow, clenching his fists at his sides. Why didn’t Stolas just tell him? Then he heard the sound of voices, and it sounded a lot like yelling. He quickened his pace, weaving through hallways as he followed the screeching. He stopped at a tall door that he guessed led to the dining room.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing, Sto-las? After I told you that you can’t –”

“As hard as it may be to believe, Stella, you cannot tell me what I can and cannot do –”

“I do it all the time!”

“Well not anymore! I’m tired of never making any choices for myself. For fuck’s sake, I’m allowed to do things that I want to do –”

“Like spending time at an imp’s apartment while our daughter prances around the streets with a hellhound burnout –?”

“Octavia was having fun with a friend, something she rarely gets to do because you –”

“Oh so everything’s my fault! I’m her mother! I get to decide who she spends time with! What would the rest of the Goetia think if they found out that you two have no consideration for social standing? Next thing you know these cretins you consider ‘friends’ will be robbing us blind! Ha! I bet they already have! I bet that imp is in it for the long con. Why else would he willingly spend time with your boring, pathetic, scrawny ass!”

The room fell silent. Blitzø clenched his jaw, seething as he listened to her bullshit. Why was he still eavesdropping behind this door? Fuck thinking first and acting later. He needed to act now.

“His ass isn’t any of those things!” he said, throwing open the door and marching over to them. They were standing by the windows. Stella’s face was red with anger and Stolas’ hand was on his cheek. He was wearing the red romper outfit again, gold buttons done up, the fur trim of his cape draped perfectly over his shoulders. His crowned hat was on his head. He was back to being a prince.

“Blitzø?” Stolas said quietly, looking at him in surprise. Then something in his expression became more guarded, gaze quickly shifting away. “How did you get in?”

“I, uhhhhh, found an open door,” he said vaguely. Stella’s eyes narrowed. Stolas frowned.

“Of course!” Stella said with a scoff, turning to face Stolas again. “Exactly the thing that a thief would do!”

“Hey! I came to drop something off, not take anything!” Blitzø protested. He looked over at Stolas, who still wasn’t meeting his gaze. The fuck? He didn’t look like he was buying it. But it was the truth! Did this hag’s words get to him? Hellll no. He wouldn’t allow it. “Wowwww," he said to Stella, crossing his arms. "So ya like poisoning his mind and his body, huh?” Stolas finally looked at him, surprise back on his face. “I stopped by the kitchen while I was lookin’ for ya, big bird. She told the chef you wanted those poisonous red pom-pom things in your dessert. What were they called again? Ricky communist –?”

“Ricinus communis,” Stolas said. He dropped his hand from his cheek, but he was still turned away so Blitzø only saw his profile.

“Yes! That!” Blitzø said. “Why didn’t ya tell me you microdose poison cuz of this psycho?” he said, gesturing at Stella with both hands. Stolas hugged his arms to his chest, turning his face fully away.

“How dare insult me in my own palace –!” Stella began, enraged as she turned on Blitzø, fists clenched.

“If the fancy slipper fits, ya princess-fuck!” Blitzø shot back. “Keep pissing me off and I’ll tell ya where you can stick that slipper next!”

“You stupid, red prick –” Stella began, talons on display. Blitzø rolled his eyes, leaning his weight on one hip as he crossed his arms.

“Reeeaal creative there, tits. I can fake being offended by your weak-ass insults if that’ll make your dick hard.” Stella shrieked, running over to grab a fancy gold plate that probably cost more than Blitzø’s rent off the dining table and hurling it at him. Stolas quickly used his magic, stopping the plate mid-air and setting it back on the table.

“Honestly!” Stolas said, glaring at Stella. “Will you ever stop acting like a spiteful child?” Blitzø stuck his tongue out at Stella while Stolas wasn’t looking. “Octavia and I are not allowed to have friends, but it’s perfectly fine for you to attempt to poison me? Not for the first time, may I remind you –” 

“You deserve it for embarrassing me –!”

“I don’t!” Stolas said, squeezing his eyes closed, balling his hands into fists at his sides. He took a deep breath, shaking his head. He turned his back on Stella, facing Blitzø fully now as he looked down at the floor. “As much as you try to convince me, I...I don’t deserve this. I'm not some toy to be thrown around and used however others please!”

That’s when Blitzø finally noticed the other side of Stolas’ face. His eyes widened. Then his expression darkened. There were three black scratches on Stolas’ cheek, not incredibly deep, but it looked like it stung.

“Oh you crossed a fuckin’ line, bitch,” Blitzø said, voice lowered and threatening as he moved to stand in between Stella and Stolas, clenching his jaw as he glared up at her. “You better not lay one of your shitty hands on him ever again if you know what’s good for you.”

He noticed Stolas looking at him in confusion. Then he watched as Stolas placed his hand back on his cheek, eyes widening in realization. He quickly waved his hand, blue magic appearing. The scratches were suddenly gone.

Blitzø’s heart clenched painfully. This explained Stolas healing the marks Blitzø left on his neck like he’d done that shit, like, ten times before. Ten? That probably wasn’t a high enough number. Like, a fuck-ton of times.

“Ha! Or what?” Stella said. He turned back to see her looking down at him with a smug grin, hands on her hips. “What could you possibly do to me, you pathetic imp?”

“Blitzø,” Stolas said quietly, a warning. But fuck that. Blitzø was seeing red. His hand hovered over his holster. Then he remembered he didn’t bring it. Dammit. Whatever.

“I kill people for my job, but I’m not above killin’ stuck-up cumrags in my personal life. Wanna say one more stupid-ass comment and find out? Cuz I know I’m even crazier than you, you ugly –”

“Blitzø,” Stolas said more firmly this time.

“Try it and Satan himself will chop off that empty head of yours!” Stella shot back, seething. Clearly the 'ugly' comment irritated her more than the whole threatening her life part. “I can make that happen just for breaking in here and –”

“Enough!” Stolas yelled, now moving between the two of them, holding his hands out. The room crackled with magic energy, like an incoming thunderstorm. He looked at Blitzø. “It’s time for you to go.” Blitzø looked at him in surprise. Stella let out a victorious laugh.

“What? Stolas –” he said, tone gentle as he took a step towards him, but Stolas shook his head. Blitzø caught Stolas glance at his crystal before meeting his gaze.

“Don’t ‘Stolas’ me right now! You shouldn’t have come here! Please, just go home!”

“But –”

“I-I don’t want you here! I feel shitty enough, and now everything just feels worse –”

“I didn’t, I didn’t mean to –” Blitzø said, taking a step back. He was getting flashbacks to Verosika’s party, when Stolas asked him to go home as tears started spilling over.

“See? Even this fool knows you don’t belong here, so fuck off,” Stella said, leaning over so she could look past Stolas to give Blitzø a smug-ass smile. Blitzø felt a fresh new wave of anger.

“Stolas doesn’t belong in this shitty, abusive place either!” he said, pointing at her. “Just you wait, bitch, cuz one day soon Stolas will be living a life without you in it! And I’m gonna make sure he’s better off for it!”

“Ha! Take him! He’s the one thing I don’t give a flying fuck about you stealing!” she shot back. Blitzø looked over to see tears in Stolas’ eyes. He was hugging his arms to his chest again, looking at the floor.

“Stolas, don’t listen to her bullshit –”

“Just go,” Stolas pleaded, not looking at him. “I don’t want to listen to your bullshit either,” he added quietly. Blitzø watched as his bottom lip wobbled. Then he shifted into his eldritch form, slipping out one of the windows like a shadow. Fuck. What did he mean by that?

“Shit.” Blitzø tapped his fist against his forehead in frustration, tryna figure out how he messed up this time. Stella cackled and he dropped his hand, glaring at her. “I meant everything I said. You think you’ve won, but you’re wrong. You’re not gonna torment him anymore. Not on my watch.”

“Whatever! You better not come back here! I’m planning a party and I don’t want the likes of you skulking around the place.” Blitzø was extremely tempted to just shoot her here and now, but he forgot his fucking gun, so he flipped her off instead. He needed to find Stolas.

He stormed out of the dining hall, anger boiling. Once he reached the door, different from the one he used but closer to the window Stolas left through, he kicked it open, stepping into the hallway.

His eyes widened in surprise when he saw Octavia standing there looking upset.

Christ on a stick.

Before he could get a word in she rushed off, turning a corner as she hugged her arms to her chest.

“Octavia wait!” he called after her, running to try and catch up. But this palace was a fuckin’ maze, so he wasn’t sure where she went. He took random turns, frustration rising until he heard a commotion coming from down the hall. 

“Fuck. This!” Blitzø hurried down the hallway and stopped at a familiar-looking door. Thankfully it'd been left slightly open.

He watched from the doorway as Octavia threw a yellow star-shaped pillow across the room, fists clenched as her chest heaved in anger. “Fuck everything!” She held her head in her hands and Blitzø quietly stepped into the room, closing the door behind him.

“Hey kiddo,” he said gently, and Octavia whirled on him, a circular, purple pillow in her hands this time, ready to throw. Blitzø held up his hands. “Woooaahh there. I come in peace.”

“What’re you doing here?” she asked. “Aren’t you sick?”

“I was,” he agreed, rubbing the back of his neck. “But I feel a lot better now, thanks to your dad –” Octavia scoffed, tossing the pillow on the floor.

“At least someone feels better."

"Do you...your parents, why were they...?" he needed to figure out what happened, but he also knew he needed to tread lightly. 

"Right, you just showed up at the end there, didn't you," Octavia said, giving him a glare. "Perfect timing." She frowned, looking away from him. "But I'm one to talk. I told my mum about going to a record shop with Loona during dinner and she got pissed. And then I just kept talking like an idiot and she was even more pissed when she found out that Dad was taking care of you at the same time.” She gave Blitzø a suspicious look. “Apparently he told her he wouldn’t spend time with you anymore.”

Bullshit. Blitzø didn’t believe that for a second. Then he thought about Stolas sending him away like that…was that the case? He clenched his jaw, still trying to figure out his fuck-up. He refused to believe Stolas would drop him without a good reason. Then Octavia crossed her arms, looking at the floor.

“I hate when they get like that,” she grumbled. Then she looked up at Blitzø, narrowing her eyes again. “And now you want to take him away from us. From me –”

“No,” Blitzø said, stepping further into the room. “What you heard back there, I didn’t mean it like that –”

“How else could you have possibly meant it?” Octavia asked, dropping her arms as she looked at him in disbelief. “You said he doesn’t belong here! In our home!” She pressed her palms against the sides of her head in frustration before quickly taking them away. “And you promised he’d never have anything to do with your assassin job, but Mum found out that he paid for a private hospital room in Sloth for you!”

“That wasn’t – he didn’t –”

“So he never got involved in whatever bullshit job you were trying to do?” she asked. Blitzø winced.

“I didn’t mean for him to be there –”

She let out another scoff, hugging her arms to her chest.

“How am I supposed to trust anything you say?” she asked, moving to sit at the end of her bed. “Why does everyone lie to me?”

“I’m sorry, Octavia, really,” he said, taking careful a step towards her. “Your dad wasn’t supposed to be there. I didn’t want him there. I feel like such an asshole for forcing him to save me –”

“He saved you?” Octavia asked, expression uncertain. Blitzø let out an amused puff of air.

“Yeah, like some goddamn superhero. Cape flapping in the wind and everything.” Octavia’s beak twitched up in a smile.

“I can’t picture him looking that cool,” she admitted. Blitzø let out a real laugh at that. The tension in the room finally began to ease.

“He has his moments.” He moved to stand next to Octavia’s bed. “Can I?” Octavia hesitated, looking less than thrilled, but she nodded.

“Sure. Whatever.”

Blitzø hoisted himself up on the edge of the bed, sitting next to her. He noticed the grimoire open near her pillows. He grabbed it with his tail, moving it into his lap. “Whatcha got here? Swiped this from the old man?” Octavia raised her hand, purple magic appearing. The grimoire wobbled out of Blitzø’s lap, slowly floating over to rest in hers.

“Dad gives me lessons every once in a while, but sometimes I like to read through it on my own,” she confessed. Then she scoffed, looking down at the book as she flipped through the pages. “It’s really easy to borrow it without him realizing. For a powerful magical item, he’s not the best at keeping tabs on it.” Blitzø couldn’t help but crack a grin.

“I can imagine,” he said, knowing from past (future) experience. Octavia closed the book, furrowing her brow.

“Shouldn’t you be trying to find my dad? That’s what you were going to do, wasn’t it?” Blitzø sighed.

“Yeah, I was, but he also seemed pretty set on me fucking off,” he said, leaning back on his palms as he looked up at the ceiling. “Satan knows why.”

“I dunno either. It was strange. The past few days…” she hesitated and Blitzø looked over at her. She tugged at one of her longer headfeathers. “He’s been different,” she continued. “I’ve never seen him like this before. And obviously Mum’s pissed about it.”

“I know she’s your mom 'n all, but I really enjoy pissing her off,” Blitzø confessed. Octavia let out a tired laugh. Blitzø tapped his fingers nervously against the bed. “Are we talkin’ a good different here? Or a bad different?” She frowned.

“A good different, I think.” Blitzø felt some of his anxiety loosen in his chest. “But it makes me nervous.”

“Why?” Blitzø asked, surprised. Octavia hugged the grimoire to her chest, looking forwards.

“Things have been the same for so long. It’s boring, but…at least I know what’ll happen next.”

“Spoken like a keeper of prophecies,” Blitzø pointed out, nodding at the grimoire. Octavia rolled her eyes.

“That’ll never actually be my job,” she said. “I’m a precautionary heir.”

“Is not knowing what’ll happen next really all that bad?” Blitzø asked, curious. Octavia frowned.

“I just want things to be…normal,” she tried to explain. “Things used to be fine, but recently Mum and Dad fight over the dumbest things.” Blitzø frowned. He was beginning to doubt if things were ever normal – ever okay – with that marriage. With Stolas’ life. Blitzø thought Stolas had been perfectly happy with his cushy-ass setup before Blitzø swiped that book. But maybe he was never okay. Blitzø thought about how easily Stolas took those shitty shots without flinching.

Maybe Stolas was just really good at pretending.

It was an observation that caught him off guard, cuz looking back on it now, he had a feeling Stolas never faked things when it came to him. To them.

“But you,” Octavia continued, turning to look at him, “he’s so much happier when he’s with you. He’s this new version of himself. You did that so easily, in only a few fucking days. Why couldn’t…why couldn’t I do that? Am I part of the reason he’s been so…defeated lately? Is he sick of the life he has with me and Mum? If you did ask him to run away…I think he’d actually do it –”

“He’d never leave you behind if he had a say in it,” Blitzø said firmly. “And entertaining’s in my blood, sweetie. If I wasn’t a pro at cheering demons up I’d be a shitty excuse for a clown.”

“You certainly didn’t cheer my mum up,” Octavia pointed out, but Blitzø noticed the teasing look in her eyes. He bumped her shoulder with his own, giving her a grin.

“I’m off the clock,” he explained. Octavia scoffed. Then Blitzø’s expression grew serious. “If it matters, I wouldn’t let you get left behind either, kiddo. Losing family is…” he trailed off, looking at the floor with a frown, “it’s not easy.”

“Does that pendant have to do with your family? You're holding it like it does,” Octavia pointed out, and Blitzø looked down in surprise. He was gently clasping the skull pendant at his neck. He smiled sadly.

“Yeah,” he admitted. He furrowed his brow, looking at the floor again. As much as he absolutely hated opening up, this was a rare opportunity when it felt like the right move. It almost felt like his mom was urging him to do it, as dumb as that was. She always loved mediating shit. “It was my mom’s,” he said quietly, voice hoarser than it was moments before. “She was the parent that…that got me, that taught me things and comforted me when I felt like shit. And she was so funny in the cringiest way. Like Satan’s asshole –” Octavia laughed.

“I can imagine,” she said, echoing what Blitzø said before. He smiled at her. Then his smile fell as he let go of the pendant, looking at his hands in his lap.

“My parents fought a lot, too,” he admitted. He let out a bitter scoff. “More like that dickhead would take all his anger out on her for no fucking reason. And she’d just…take it.” He frowned, clenching his hands into fists. “It drove me crazy, especially as I got older and saw the bullshit for what it was. When I realized that that wasn’t normal.” He let out a frustrated sigh. “I got into a stupid fight with my mom about it. I was around your age, actually,” he glanced at Octavia before looking ahead.

It was as if that time travel spell was working again, and he was slipping even further into the past, back to that sweaty, run-down circus tent.

“I couldn’t understand why she didn’t just leave that asshole,” he continued, flicking his tail in agitation. “She’d be so much better off. I practically begged her to, but she refused. She asked me never to bring it up again.”

“Why?” 

“She never gave me a good reason,” Blitzø said, shaking his head. “But eventually I realized that she did it for us. Me and my sister.” He clenched his jaw. It was a realization that came too late. “She didn’t want our lives to get complicated. She didn’t want to make us choose which parent to stick with, although that would’ve been an easy fuckin' choice for both of us.” He paused. “I think she knew that, and didn’t want me and Fizz – my best friend – to be separated. We were so fucking close.”

“Do you think she regrets it?” Octavia asked. Blitzø shrugged, pretending he didn’t feel like he was cutting himself open.

“I never got the chance to ask.” A heaviness hung in the air. He shook his head. “But I don’t think it was the right choice. She could’ve been happier, could’ve lived the life she wanted before she…” He ignored the burn in his throat. He turned his face away. “I wish I put up more of a fight. I wish I told that asshole to stay away from her. That’s what I regret.” Octavia grew quiet, letting go of the grimoire to set it back on her lap. She looked down at it, brow furrowed.

“You really are off the clock,” she said, and Blitzø looked at her in confusion. “That didn’t cheer me up at all.” Blitzø’s eyes widened, and he laughed when he saw Octavia's small smile.

“Look who has jokes! Any chance the ~precautionary heir~ is interested in clownin’?” he asked, nudging her. Octavia laughed, shaking her head.

“Lucifer no,” she replied. “Could you imagine the look on my dad’s face if I told him I wanted to run away to the circus? Don’t even get me started on Mum –” Blitzø grinned, imagining the horrified expression on that crazy bitch’s face.

“I bet I could convince your dad to tag along. He’d make a great ringleader. We already know he can rock a top hat –”

Octavia let out a laugh and Blitzø continued to smile, whishing his tail from side to side. She was a good kid. He saw so much of Stolas in her. And, surprisingly, he saw parts of himself, too. He wished he got to have this kinda conversation with her a lot earlier.

“Thanks,” Octavia said, playing with the hem of her sleeve. “It was nice to talk about this with someone who, you know, understands.”

“Yeah. Thanks for giving me a chance. I know I kinda showed up outta nowhere –”

“Not nowhere,” she disagreed. She pointed at her closet door. “There, specifically. Don’t think I forgot.” She was teasing him again. Blitzø’s smile widened.

“Can’t put anything past you,” he said, and Octavia was clearly tryna suppress a smug smile. “Now let’s stop the sappy feelings shit for today,” he suggested, stretching his arms. “Tell me what you were reading in that fancy book. Anything good?” Octavia’s expression brightened as she opened it, flipping through the pages.

“I remembered you and Dad talking about a memory wiping spell back at the observatory,” she explained, trying to find the page, eyes scanning over symbols and text. “I wanted to take a look. I may have been entertaining the idea of wiping the last hour or two from my own memory,” she confessed, tugging sheepishly at a headfeather.

“Don't really blame ya,” Blitzø said. “Sounds like a complicated-ass spell though.” Octavia stopped flipping through the pages and Blitzø looked down to see a bunch of crazy symbols he wasn’t gonna even attempt to understand.

“It’s actually not that bad. It’s a pretty flexible spell, too, so if you want you can even –” There was a soft knock at the door.

“Octavia? I just wanted to check in and –” Stolas gently opened the door, poking his head inside. His eyes widened when he saw Blitzø sitting on the bed next to her. Then Blitzø watched as his gaze shifted to the open grimoire, then back to Blitzø. His expression quickly became guarded and wary, just like back at the dining hall.

He stepped fully into the room, hands clasped in front of him.

“Blitzø,” Stolas said, clearing his throat. “I didn’t realize that you were still here.” Blitzø tried not to be hurt by that. The way Stolas had stopped calling him ‘Blitzy’ and the way he wanted Blitzø gone. Blitzø hopped off the bed.

“Yeah I, uh, ran into Octavia,” he explained. Stolas frowned.

“Oh? And what were you two doing? Is that my grimoire?”

“I wanted to read through it,” Octavia explained. “Sorry, I should’ve asked –”

“Yes, you should have, dearest,” Stolas said, but not unkindly. “It’s important for me to know where it is. If it ever fell into the wrong hands…” he glanced at Blitzø, “well, who knows what the consequences would be.”

“Right, sorry Dad,” Octavia said, looking down at the floor in embarrassment. Stolas walked further into the room, seeing pillows scattered around the floor. He waved his hand and the pillows levitated in the air, returning to their correct places. The star pillow gently landed next to Octavia.

“And I’m sorry, Via, for how dinner went tonight. You just had such a good day, too –”

“Did she really try to poison you?” Octavia asked, and Stolas’ eyes widened slightly. Then he glanced at Blitzø. Blitzø watched as he shifted uncomfortably on his talons. It looked like he was about to hug his arms to his chest, but stopped himself at the last second, fidgeting with his hands instead.

“I didn’t realize you heard that,” he began. “That was just a…misunderstanding,” he explained, and Blitzø looked at him in surprise. Stolas stubbornly didn’t meet his gaze, still looking at Octavia. “That whole argument sounded a lot more dramatic than it actually was,” he continued with a laugh, but it sounded hollow on Blitzø’s ears. “Everything is fine, now, so don’t worry princess. I…I promise not to fight with your mother anymore.”

“Really?” Octavia asked, looking up at her dad with wide, uncertain eyes. Stolas hesitated for a fraction of a second, but then he nodded, giving her a smile.

“Yes. Now you mentioned wanting to spend time together. Are you still up for it? It’s not quite time for bed yet,” he said, trying to put on a bright, happy expression.

“Would you play a song for us?” Octavia asked. “On the guitar?”

“Us?” Stolas repeated, finally looking at Blitzø again. Blitzø could tell that Stolas still wanted him to leave, and a large part of his brain was screaming at him to do it. If Stolas didn’t want him here, then fuck him. And yet an even more stubborn part of him wouldn’t move. He didn’t wanna run away. It was funny. Whenever he got the chance to cut ties with Stolas, he just couldn’t bring himself to do it, even when his bird was being an evasive pain in the ass. It only made him want to try harder.

“Yeah! I wanna see those finger placements at work,” Blitzø said, putting a hand on his hip and giving Stolas a once-over. He caught Stolas’ blush and felt his stomach swoop. Maybe he wasn’t a lost cause after all. Octavia got up from her bed, walking over to her closet and returning with a guitar. It was purple, covered in stars and a waning or waxing or whatever-the-fuck crescent moon. It was pretty sick. He noticed the ‘Love, Dad’ on the back of it, and he couldn’t help but smile.

“Here,” she said, handing the guitar over to Stolas. Stolas took it, still looking hesitant. Then he took a deep breath, exhaling.

“Okay, sweetie.” He moved to sit on the couch, and Octavia joined him. Then Blitzø realized Stolas was looking at him expectantly. “If you’re so determined to see a performance, then take a seat,” Stolas said to him. Blitzø nodded, moving to sit on the floor. Stolas looked down at him in confusion. “You don’t have to sit on the floor, Blitzy –” he stopped abruptly, as if he just said a swear, but Blitzø's expression softened. He spread out his legs in front of him, leaning back on his palms as he stared up at Stolas, guitar in his lap and posture straight.

“I think I got the best seat in the house, big bird,” he said, and Stolas quickly looked away, his cheeks definitely pinker than they were a second ago. Octavia hugged one of her purple, circular pillows to her chest, looking at her dad.

“Can you play the song from last time? The one you sang?”

“Oh, um, yes, I suppose I can,” he said. He glanced over at Blitzø. “Do you remember what I said about that little robot on Mars?” he asked. Blitzø tilted his head in confusion, not expecting that question.

“The one that lasted way longer than it was supposed to? How could I forget? I get that kinda feedback a lot,” he said with a wink. Stolas let out a surprised laugh and Blitzø grinned.

“There was also that song that the humans played for it as a goodbye,” Stolas reminded him, expression all business once more.

“Right! Is that what you’re gonna play?” Blitzø asked. Stolas nodded his head.

“Only a bit of it. I’m not so indulgent as to sing the entire song,” he explained self-consciously. “I’ve been told that it can be, well, annoying."

“Well fuck whoever said that,” Blitzø said, having a feeling he knew who it was. The bitch was tone-deaf too, apparently, if she thought Stolas’ singing was annoying. Blitzø had witnessed Stolas perform multiple times now, and even being surrounded by exes who wanted to kill him, or royal demons who also wanted to kill him, and listening to Stolas call him a ‘motherfucker’ or a ‘worm’ or a ‘wretch’, whatever the fuck that even was, he could still appreciate Stolas’ pipes easy. “Feel free to indulge me anytime ya want,” he said with a flirty smile. “Dunno what ‘indulge’ means, but sounds hot.”

“Uh, gross,” Octavia said, shooting Blitzø a disgusted look before looking back at her dad. “But I like your singing.”

“Thank you, sweetie,” he said, giving her a smile. He even gave Blitzø a brief smile as well. Then he placed his talons on the guitar strings, brow furrowed in concentration. A quiet fell over the bedroom, and then he strummed the first chord, opening his beak to sing:

“I'll be seeing you,” he sang, voice slow and soft, all four eyes closed, “in all the old familiar places, that this heart of mine embraces, all day through.” He strummed easily, gently. “In that small café, the park across the way, the children's carousel, the chestnut trees, the wishing well...” He took a breath, and Blitzø was finding it hard to take one himself, eyes wide. Maybe it was the sweet warble of Stolas' voice, or the graceful way his fingers leaped across the guitar strings, or just, Stolas, himself, everything about him.

“I'll be seeing you," Stolas continued, "in every lovely summer's day, in everything that's light and gay. I'll always think of you that way. I'll find you in the morning sun, and when the night is new...” He paused, glancing up at Blitzø, something deep and thick with meaning in his expression, equal parts pain and gentleness. “I'll be looking at the moon...but I'll be seeing...you.”

It took a second to realize that Stolas had stopped playing, the moment lingering, soaking into Blitzø’s bones.

“Are you okay?” Octavia asked, and that’s when Blitzø realized he was tearing up. Fuck. He quickly moved to stand, turning away from them to swipe the back of his hand across his eyes.

“Y-yeah! Course I am,” he said, turning back to face them. “That’s, uh, quite a song. Light and gay? Hilarious,” he blurted out. “And the thing about the moon is really…really…” he trailed off, throat tight. His gaze met Stolas', and the bird was looking at him in utter confusion. It was like his pretty face couldn’t decide on one expression. Then Stolas stood up abruptly, setting the guitar on the couch. They looked at each other for a long moment. But before anyone said anything more a phone buzzed. Octavia pulled out her phone, looking down at it. She sighed.

“Mum just texted saying she’s staying with Uncle tonight,” she explained. “At least she’ll blow off steam somewhere else,” she grumbled, putting her phone back in her pocket.

“Y-yes, that’s probably for the best,” Stolas said, although he was still looking at Blitzø.

“Yeah,” Octavia agreed with a yawn. Stolas finally looked down at her.

“You should get some rest, dearest,” he said. “I’m going to…walk Blitzø out.” Octavia nodded, eyelids heavy. Then she looked at Blitzø.

“If I bring my record player, can I hang out with Loona at your place sometime? I have a feeling that might be better than Loona coming here.”

“Course, kiddo. Anytime.” She gave him a grateful smile.

“Night, Dad,” she said. "Thanks for the song." Stolas pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Goodnight, my precious girl,” he whispered. He straightened his posture, giving Blitzø another uncertain look.

He waved his hand and the grimoire floated in the air, coming to rest in his hands. He tucked it securely under his arm. Then he began walking to the door. Blitzø followed after him. They stepped into the hallway, Stolas gently closing the door behind them.

“Would you prefer to make a portal with your crystal, or shall I use my grimoire?” Stolas asked, all business. “You seemed quite interested in knowing more about it with Octavia, I noticed.” Blitzø let out a fond laugh.

"She’s a lot like you, ya know, nerding out over books –”

“You really do know me so well,” Stolas interrupted, something flashing in his ruby, pupilless eyes. Blitzø shrugged, feeling self-conscious all of a sudden.

“I mean, you were a book nerd ever since we were kids –”

“Yes, when we were children. That day when you tricked me into robbing my own home,” Stolas pointed out. “You did that so expertly, although I was probably an easy mark, wasn’t I?”

“Woah, where’s this coming from?” Blitzø asked, looking up at Stolas in confusion. “That why you’re so pissed at me all of a sudden? That was a forever ago, why’re you now –?” Stolas let out a frustrated huff and began walking down the hall, hugging his grimoire to his chest and hunching his shoulders. “The fuck? Slow down ya leggy bitch and tell me why you’re acting like - like this!” he called after him, jogging to catch up. Stolas turned a corner and Blitzø slid on his heel as he turned too, still following.

“Like what?” Stolas asked, although he didn’t stop. “Discerning, for once? Apologies, I must’ve been making this all so easy for you ever since you showed up here!” His tone was dripping with sarcasm. The spikes on Blitzø’s back stood up.

“You know I have no idea what the fuck ‘discerning’ means!”

“You'd think I didn’t know either, with the way I’ve been acting!” Stolas said, letting out a bitter laugh. He turned another corner. “Seeing clearly, Blitzø. I finally managed to see things clearly for what they were. Are.” He let out a shuddering exhale. “Always have been.” He waved his hand, the door to his bedroom opening. He walked through the doorway and Blitzø followed after him, watching as Stolas lit the various candles in the room with another wave of his hand, then threw open the balcony doors, stepping outside.

“And what exactly do you see, Stolas?” Blitzø asked, only a few steps behind him. “Cuz you’re making me feel like I’m fucking blind.” He watched as Stolas pulled a small, plastic bottle from somewhere within his cape, opening it and shaking some pills into his hand. He swallowed them, and Blitzø’s eyes were wide as he was watched. “How long have you been taking those?” he asked, shocked. Anxiety twisted further in his chest, like snakes coiling together, squeezing its prey.

“I would’ve assumed you already had the answer to that,” Stolas said. He let out another humorless laugh. “Perhaps you really do have a crystal ball stashed away somewhere. You certainly have other notable things stashed away.” Blitzø watched as Stolas placed his forearms on the balcony railing, looking out into the darkness. Then the bird let out a defeated sigh. “Why did you even show up here?”

“I…had a gift,” Blitzø said weakly. He was standing in the balcony doorway, eyes tracing along the dejected curve of Stolas’ spine. He moved to hold the packet of seeds in his pants pocket, but he didn’t take it out yet. “Look, I’m guessing ya didn’t want to me to get involved in that argument. I get it. It’s…complicated. But don’t sweat what the ball 'n chain said. She has no idea what she’s talking about. You and Octavia are allowed to have friends, the fuck –?”

“Are we friends, Blitzø?” Stolas asked, voice so quiet that Blitzø barely heard him. He took a few steps closer to Stolas, now standing in the center of the balcony.

“We…” he hesitated, thinking about that kiss. He could blame his fever. It’d be easy. Loona told Stolas that he gets needy when he’s sick. He could say he barely remembered it, when the feeling of Stolas pressed against him had been driving him crazy, leading him here.

“No. We’re not,” Blitzø said instead, feeling himself relax at the confession. But although he couldn’t see Stolas’ expression, he thought he saw his shoulders tense. He took another step towards him, reaching out a hand. “I mean, it’s pretty obvious that we’re something more –”

“Oh?” Stolas asked, voice still quiet, a note of defeat in it that had Blitzø stopping his hand, furrowing his brow in confusion. “I would’ve said it’s obvious we are something less.”

“What?” Blitzø took a step back. He let go of the packet of seeds, keeping them in his pocket as he blinked at Stolas. He shook his head slightly, swallowed thickly. He felt a pit in his stomach. Shit. He made the same mistake. He thought he knew how Stolas felt. But he was wrong. Again. Stolas didn’t feel the same way. Fuck. Why would he? Blitzø had been a total disaster, right from the start. Dragging Stolas to shitty diners and shitty bars, taking him to see the stars just to freak out outta nowhere, forcing Stolas to save his life and nurse him back to health, being the reason Stolas was fighting with that crazy bitch, almost messing up his relationship with his daughter –

It was all bullshit, just like Stolas said in the dining hall. And he was right. Some things were impossible to change. Blitzø – the fucked, unlovable mess that he was – was one of those things. He always would be. He could have a million do-overs and he’d still find a way to ruin it, because he could never escape himself.

Blitzø clenched his jaw, moving to cross his arms. Even if that was true, that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. Stolas didn’t even see them as friends? After everything? Was he that pathetic? He could feel his irritation and defensiveness spike, could feel himself reaching for that big red button, slipping into old habits he’d tried so hard to break.

“Then what are we, princey? Still see me as your silly little clown?” he asked, tone biting. Fuck it. He had the impulsive desire to tear it all down. Better than watching it crumble while he did nothing. “Want another shitty balloon animal –?”

“I fear that I was the clown!” Stolas said, finally turning to face Blitzø. He was pressing his hand against his chest, pupils visible and frustrated tears in his eyes. “I was too foolish to notice that you had a hidden agenda all along –” Blitzø’s eyes widened, caught off guard.

“What hidden agenda?” he asked, although he had a sneaking suspicion he already knew the answer. Stolas took a deep breath.

“I found a duplicate grimoire under your couch. I got a call from Asmodeus asking about that crystal that somehow appeared,” he gestured to Blitzø’s wrist. “And my father had no idea what I was talking about when I tried to thank him for my ‘surprise birthday present’.” Blitzø watched as he hugged his arms to himself. “There are still details I don’t fully understand, but I’ve been able to piece enough of it together. Your intentions are finally transparent, at least.”

So the cat was outta the bag. Honestly, Blitzø was surprised he’d managed to keep this whole time travel craziness under wraps this long.

“I just…how…I didn’t know how to tell you!” he blurted out, throwing out his hands, not even trying to deny it. “It was better to handle things myself! You didn’t need to know that I – ”

“Did you really believe that I wouldn’t find out eventually?” Stolas asked, letting out an incredulous scoff. “Or were you just hoping that I’d know the truth long after you already succeeded?”

“I mean, yeah!” Blitzø said. Stolas’ eyes widened, then narrowed. Blitzø dropped his hands, clenching them into desperate fists. “Look, I got thrown into this whole thing, Stolas. I didn’t plan on winding up here. But I did. And I just – I just didn’t want you getting hurt. That’s the one thing I wanted to avoid the most.”

Stolas’ eyes widened again. But they didn’t narrow this time. Still, there was a hurt in his expression that made Blitzø’s insides twist. If he knew Stolas would react this way, he would’ve done this differently. He thought he was protecting Stolas. But, like always, he only thought he knew how Stolas felt. He didn’t actually know. As much as he tried, he could never guess what was going on in his head.

“Then why did you make me believe, why did you – you made me feel –” Stolas hugged his arms even tighter to his chest, breaths becoming quick and shallow. He placed a hand on his forehead, looking at the floor, expression twisted with a cocktail of emotions Blitzø couldn’t name. “I started to think – I was making these plans to –” Blitzø shook his head, having no clue what Stolas was trying to say. He took a step towards Stolas again, but Stolas turned away from him, saying nothing more.

“Fuck! Just talk to me!” Blitzø pleaded, panicked and frustrated. “You keep so much shit to yourself, all the time! How am I supposed to – I’m not smart enough to know –!”

“Oh but you already know so much about me!” Stolas shot back, whirling on him. “And I know so little about you! Because you aren’t forthcoming either!”

“Fourth cumming? Don’t you dare get all kinky with me when I don’t know what in Satan’s red asshole is going on right now!” Blitzø said, pointing up at him. Stolas’ eyes flashed, beak pressed into a hard line as he took an angry breath. Blitzø dropped his hand. “C’mon Stolas. I get that I kept some shit from you, but I thought it was the right move –” He hesitated. Then he clenched his jaw, moving to cross his arms again and finding it hard to meet Stolas’ gaze. Because he knew that wasn’t the full truth. He felt another spike of frustration. “I just don’t get why you’re this angry about it –”

“Because if I knew that all you truly wanted was my grimoire, I never would’ve have allowed myself to fall for you!” Stolas finally managed to say in a rush, voice thick with meaning and hurt. “Is that direct enough for you?” Blitzø’s eyes widened. He watched as Stolas let out a bitter, broken laugh, dropping his arms and looking up at the sky. “No,” he said quietly. “I believe I would’ve fallen for you even if I did know.” He covered his face with his hands. “Even now, I still want you.”

“I –” Blitzø took a step towards him again, but Stolas hastily wiped his tears away with the insides of his wrists, straightening his crowned hat.

“Look at me,” Stolas said with a bitter laugh. “I truly am pathetic –”

“No –”

“I am,” Stolas insisted. “Don’t bother humoring me.” He gripped the balcony railing, hunching over. “If I could only – for so long I could just pretend to be fine and halfway convince myself that I was! But I’m finding it so difficult to do that now, and I can’t – I can’t afford to – I’ve never been allowed to –” tears were welling up in his eyes again, “can you please just leave? I don’t want you to see me like this –”

“Fuck that,” Blitzø said, drawing closer but still keeping a careful distance. “I’m not leaving.”

“It’s – it’s better if I’m upset privately,” Stolas tried to explain, even though it sounded like he was trying to convince himself. “And then I’ll be fine –”

“No. You won’t,” Blitzø said stubbornly, shaking his head. “I know so much about you, remember?” He thought about Stolas in the future. Ever since losing Octavia, he slowly opened up about how he was feeling, what he was thinking. Much of it wasn’t good. Blitzø thought that it was a bad sign, that it meant Blitzø had been fucking it all up, not helping him in any meaningful way.

But maybe Stolas feeling like he could share his sadness with Blitzø had actually been a good thing. Again, Stolas never pretended when it came to them. Blitzø hadn’t seen that as the privilege it was. He was such an idiot.

He drew closer to Stolas and put a gentle hand on his hip, Stolas still gripping the balcony railing. Stolas turned his face away, but at least he wasn’t telling Blitzø to leave.

Blitzø’s chest felt tight. He didn’t like seeing Stolas this upset, especially since he was still unsure about what caused it. He was starting to think it wasn't the fact that Blitzø was from the future and didn’t tell Stolas. Something else was going on here.

And there was another nagging, anxious feeling that was hard to shake. Being with Stolas on the balcony like this, it reminded him of talking to future Stolas on the fire escape, one of the last conversations they had before Blitzø ended up here. He wasn’t waiting for Blitzø, was he? This time travel thing was rewriting everything, wasn’t it? Part of him wanted to believe that that was the case, that that messy future was gone. But something about losing that Stolas left a pit in his stomach. Losing that Fizz, Loona, Moxxie, Millie –

Some things he didn’t want erased.

He thought about the song Stolas - this Stolas - just sang.

The Stolas from the future, the version he left behind by accident – Blitzø was finding him everywhere. Like a caress that simply didn’t go away, that lingered on his skin.

And he saw his Stolas now, in the sad, defeated expression on this Stolas’ face as his gaze shifted to look up at the sky, bottle of pills held loosely in his grip. Blitzø removed his hand from Stolas’ hip, letting it hang limply at his side.

Blitzø had been so sure that this time travel thing was a lucky break. But he should’ve known better. Cuz his luck was shit.

“Blitzø?” Stolas breathed, looking down at him now, eyes wide. Fuck.

The tears had finally spilled over, blurring Blitzø’s vision and showing no sign of stopping anytime soon. 

Chapter Text

No. Nuh-uh. No way. He didn’t cry. What was he doing? And crying in front of Stolas, when he needed Blitzø to have his shit together? He left the balcony, stopping to stand in the middle of the bedroom as he hastily wiped tears away. He took a shuddering breath, trying to take deep, calm ones but finding it impossible. Shit shit shit –

“Blitzø?” Blitzø heard the gentle click of the balcony doors closing.

“I’m fine – everything’s fine I’m just –” he tried to explain, back turned to Stolas. The bedroom was cast in a dim, warm glow from the candles Stolas lit. He’d almost say it was romantic if it wasn’t for this embarrassing, confusing-as-fuck atmosphere. He started angrily wiping tears away with his fists now. Why weren’t they going away? Why wouldn’t these tears just fuck off –

“Why’re you crying?” Stolas asked.

“Fuck you I’m not crying!” Blitzø snapped, voice strained and shoulders hunched. He was still facing stubbornly away from Stolas so he couldn’t see his face. He flicked his tail in agitation. Why was he reacting like this? Why was he freaking out again, just like at the observatory, and the bar – why did his emotions always feel so messy and out-of-control? He was better. He could still be better –

“Oh excuuuuse me. I didn’t realize we were playing pretend,” Stolas said, pettiness obvious in his tone. Blitzø heard his bitter laugh. “That’s the crux of all this, isn’t it? This whole time we never stopped playing pretend. I just had no idea! But of course I should’ve known! Almost everything else in my life is just fucking pretend –!” The bottle of pills rattled around as he waved his arms.

“None of this is pretend for me!” Blitzø said desperately, finally turning to face him. He could still feel tears in his eyes. Dammit. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve felt so scared of fucking up!” His whole body felt tense, coiled and buzzing with aggression. Stolas looked at him in surprise. Blitzø pressed his palms to his forehead, feeling embarrassment rise in his throat at the sudden confession. “For fuck’s sake how did we even get here? I hate this –!”

“I don’t particularly enjoy this either!” Stolas shot back, eyes narrowed.

“Yeah! Clearly! You were practically sprinting away from me back there!” Blitzø reminded him, pointing at the hallway. “You ice me out like it’s nothing and then try to take off? Fuck that –!”

“I’m no good with conflict!” Stolas said defensively. “It’s always felt like an attack, like something that’s only intended to hurt me,” he said in a rush, pressing his hands to his chest now. “I–I can’t help but flinch at it, o-or run away from it –”

“Well I’ve never had the luxury of flinching!” Blitzø said, hands in fists at his sides. “It was either hit harder or get the shit kicked outta you! That’s the only way out! And when someone doesn’t even wanna bother fighting,” he pressed on, pointing up at Stolas as he glared at him, “it feels…it makes me –!” he searched Stolas’ gaze, seeing four surprised eyes on him, seeing the way the bird was hugging his arms to his chest, just like he was doing back in the dining hall while Stella yelled at him.

Blitzø dropped his hand, still looking right at Stolas. It’s like all the fight in him began to deflate. He really did hate this. This wasn’t the type of relationship he wanted with Stolas. But it was frustrating trying to learn what his bird needed. He was out of his depth, like, all the time. Sometimes his patience wore thin, he got in his head about if he was making wrong decisions – he was used to arguments. Those made sense to him. They were quick and direct. But that wouldn’t work with Stolas. Yelling at each other like this wasn’t progress for them.

But fuck did it feel nice to be honest, at least.

He took a breath, dropping his glare.

“When you ice me out it makes me feel like I’m not worth the fight,” he confessed, jaw clenched, voice quiet. “It’s a shitty feeling.”

Stolas looked at him for a long moment, posture straight. There was a storm of expressions on his face. Then he took a breath himself, taking a step towards Blitzø.

“I…didn’t realize you felt that way,” he said just as quietly. “I don’t want you to feel that way. I – the past few days – you made me want to fight,” he tried to explain. He shook his head slightly, the promise of tears in his own eyes. “Evidently I’ve got a long way to go.” He sighed. “I’ve never felt comfortable with confrontation…”

“I can get why,” Blitzø offered, voice hoarse. “I had a front row seat to what it’s been like for you. Less of a fight and more like a random beatdown.” He let out a tired scoff. “She’s impossible.”

“But you’re not,” Stolas said gently, taking another step towards him. “You fight because you care. You care about others so much, sometimes even more than yourself. It was easy to notice the past few days and yet…I lost sight of that.” He took another breath, offering his hand. “Let’s…let’s start over.” The irony of that request was like a knife through Blitzø’s chest, but Stolas seemed to have no idea. “I won’t run away this time. But perhaps we could…sit down? And…not raise our voices at each other?” Blitzø looked at him for a lingering moment, glancing at his offered hand. Then he nodded.

“Yeah,” Blitzø said quietly. “Yeah, that works.” He accepted Stolas’ hand, and Stolas led them to the purple couch. Blitzø sat down, Stolas moving to sit next to him. Blitzø could feel his gaze, but he couldn’t look back at him. This was so embarrassing. He brought his knees to his chest, resting his forehead against them.

Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Stolas slip his bottle of pills back into his cape.

“How long have you been taking those?” Blitzø asked again, forehead still pressed against his knees.

“Oh,” Stolas said, clearly not expecting that question. Blitzø could feel him shift nervously on the couch. “Somewhat recently.” Blitzø clenched his jaw.

“Since I showed up?” he asked, fearing the worst. When he first learned that Stolas took antidepressants, he had a sneaking suspicion he was the reason Stolas needed ‘em, since he did so much to fuck up his life. Was Blitzø the reason a second time? And it only took a few days? Christ on a stick. That wasn’t a record he was hoping to break.

“No, not that recently,” Stolas answered. “I’ve just been feeling…low, as of late. I don’t really know why. Since you showed up…I actually began to feel better. Not ‘cured’, whatever that would even entail. But…like I had a north star to guide me, for once.”

“Polaris, right?” Blitzø remembered, resting his chin on his knees now to look at Stolas. He watched as Stolas’ expression brightened.

“Yes, that’s right,” he said with a small smile. “So, um,” he cleared his throat. “You said you showed up here today because you had a, erm, gift?”

“Right, yeah.” He completely forgot. It was like he got caught in a crazy-ass tornado since he showed up. He pulled the packet of seeds outta his pocket, holding it out to Stolas. “It’s not much. That nosy dickhead at the plant shop told me ya had your eye on these. I think they’re supposed to be like some flower in the living world?” Stolas gently took the packet from Blitzø, giving them a closer look. Blitzø saw his eyes light up in recognition.

“I had been wanting to purchase these, but they didn’t have them the last time I checked,” he said. “They grow into these beautiful pink and orange flowers. They’re quite rare.” He looked up at Blitzø. “Thank you.” Blitzø shrugged, still hugging his knees to his chest and feeling self-conscious. At least his dramatic-ass tears had dried.

“I barely did anything,” Blitzø admitted, looking away. “And I did a pretty shit job at delivering ‘em.”

“Didn’t want to bring me some of my favorite poison instead?” Stolas asked. “I could’ve added it to my dessert and made it extra poisonous.” Blitzø snapped his gaze over to look at him. “Kidding!” Stolas said, holding his hands out in surrender. “Too soon?” Blitzø saw his awkward smile and he let out a scoff, shaking his head in disbelief. Then something occurred to him.

“Why didn’t you tell Via that she tried to poison you?”

“Ah, well,” Stolas said, fidgeting with the packet of seeds. “Via is too young…she still believes that we’re one big, happy family for the most part. Functional, at least. I want to maintain that belief for as long as I can, until she’s old enough and we can have a proper conversation.”

“I think she understands more than you think she does,” Blitzø said as gently as he could. Stolas worried at his bottom lip, looking down at the packet of seeds.

“You may be right,” he conceded. Then he let out an exhale. “I just don’t want to fuck it all up. She has such a soft heart, as much as she doesn’t want others to see it as of late. If I say or do the wrong thing – it could destroy her. I’m terrified of that outcome.” He looked over at Blitzø. “If I may ask – what happened between you and your friend? Asmodeus found out about your crystal because Fizzarolli noticed it at the plant shop –”

“That fucking narc!” Blitzø said, offended. When he got his hands on that slinky fucker – he furrowed his brow. Then what? He hadn’t even gotten the chance to try and fix things between them. Again. He looked down at his knees, adjusting his grip on them as he thought about what the fuck his response to Stolas’ question should even be.

Like how confrontation didn’t come naturally to Stolas, this touchy-feely shit wasn’t Blitzø’s usual M.O. He was fighting every instinct to make some kinda joke or say something to piss Stolas off. Then they could change the subject as they argued about some bullshit.

“I hurt him,” Blitzø finally said, fighting against his destructive instincts. “And then I lost him. I didn’t mean to. I was actually about to…to…” he thought about the stupid letter. The scrawny-ass flower. He pressed his forehead to his knees again. “I made a mistake. A big one. And I didn’t even have the balls to do whatever it took to make it right.” He lightly hit his forehead against his knees. “I wasted so much fucking time. And then I didn’t…I didn’t appreciate what I had.” He thought about the future, when they were friends again. Why did he dodge so many of Fizz’s calls? Fizz was worried about him, and he blew him off cuz he had other shit to deal with. He took it for granted. He was such an idiot.

“I see,” Stolas said quietly. “I’m sorry, Blitzø. What a truly terrible feeling that must be, to lose someone so special to you. I can’t even imagine.” Blitzø squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the burn of incoming tears. He thought about Barbie, and his mom. He thought about Stolas losing Octavia. And this Stolas had no idea. He had no idea that Blitzø forced him to understand what it felt like.

This was too much. Blitzø could feel his emotions spiraling out of control again. He wanted to yell, to tear things down, to make Stolas hate him.

He was also so tired of carrying all this by himself. He was tired of starting fires. He lifted his face, looking at Stolas who was looking back so patiently, packet of seeds still in his hands.  

Maybe Stolas could teach him how to nurture something instead.

Christ on a stick. If Moxxie could see him now. He’d be eating this shit up. That asshole.

“Before,” Blitzø said, nodding at the balcony, “I felt like I was losing you, too.” Stolas looked at him in surprise. He tried not to squirm as he felt all of Stolas’ attention on him. “I…I don’t wanna lose you.” He hesitated, thinking through his next words. “Where’d you get the idea that I wanted the grimoire more than you?”

Stolas looked away. He waved his hand, using his magic to levitate the packet of seeds, moving them to rest on the side table next to his bed. Then he clasped his hands together in his lap. For a second it looked like he was thinking about running again, but then he met Blitzø’s gaze.

“Like I said before…the grimoire under your couch, and that crystal,” he began. “You or someone else must’ve been able to duplicate magical items through some means, yes? To do so, I assume that at some point over the past few days you were able to get whatever you needed from my grimoire to make a copy. I mean…you weren’t my clown for a day. My father confirmed as much. So you showed up here for a different reason. I assume you learned things about me beforehand, found a way to get me to lower my guard, to think that we were…” Stolas let out a watery laugh, tearing his eyes away from Blitzø’s again and straightening his posture.

Blitzø wanted to interrupt, but he bit his tongue, continuing to listen. He was starting to learn that Stolas would tell him everything he needed to know if he just asked and listened. It could really be that simple, as hard as he made it in the past. In the future.

“I don’t even know what you wanted us to think we were,” Stolas admitted. “And it seems you’ve felt guilty about it, at least, but…it still hurts. I didn’t want it to hurt this badly, but…” Blitzø watched as he shook his head, ruby eyes filling with tears. “I-I got carried away. This was still a job for you, not a clown-related job, but still a job, nonetheless. But it…it w-wasn’t…for me…as much as I tried not to…to…” Stolas’ bottom lip wobbled. “But maybe – would you still spend time with me if,” he hesitated, “I could help you if that meant you would…”

“Oh Stols,” Blitzø said, letting go of his legs to reach up and put his hands on his bird’s cheeks. He used his thumbs to wipe the tears away. He did have to interrupt that train of thought.

His pretty bird. Even now, he looked so beautiful under the glow of the candles.

“I hate to say this given your line-a work ‘n all…but that prediction’s completely wrong.” He paused, seeing Stolas’ surprised expression as he looked at him. He gently slid his hands off Stolas’ face, grabbing his hands instead. “Yeah, I wasn’t your clown for the day. That was a lie, and I’m sorry about that. But there was no other job. Everything I’ve been doing the past few days – all I’ve wanted was to make you happy. I meant that.”

“But…why?” Stolas asked, voice barely above a whisper, tone half disbelief, and maybe half hope. Blitzø took a deep breath.

“I’m from the future,” he finally confessed. Direct and to the point. He felt a weight being lifted from his shoulders.

“What?” Stolas breathed, shaking his head slightly, eyes wide.

“I didn’t know at first. I thought this whole thing was some hallucination or bad drug-trip or really vivid dream,” Blitzø continued to explain. “But the grimoire from the future, the one under my couch, brought me here for some random-ass reason. Probably even no reason at all. This crystal,” he said, letting go of Stolas’ hands and holding up his wrist. “I really did get this from Ozzie, just, again, in the future.”

“Asmodeus seemed pretty adamant that he would never give you one of those,” Stolas said. “So how…?”

Blitzø hesitated, wondering just how much he should confess. This felt like a lot to unload all at once, and as much as he loved unloading all at once with Stolas, he didn’t wanna totally overwhelm him. But he also didn’t want his bird to misunderstand. He placed a hand on Stolas’ knee. He really was so pretty. Blitzø had this instinctual urge to kiss him, to finish drying his tears and bring him to the bed and help him forget all the shittiness from the past few hours –

He shook his head. Focus. He needed to focus.

“I got this crystal thanks to you,” he said with an honest smile. “I was using your grimoire at first, ya know, to do my business in the living world. We struck a…deal of sorts.” He thought about all those full moons – blindfolds and ropes and toys and Stolas screaming his name, his broken moans and the way he shook when Blitzø finally brought him to his climax. Feeling soft feathers in his fists, the way Stolas looked up at him when he was on his knees – He cleared his throat. “But you thought up a better, long-term solution in that big, beautiful brain ‘a yours. So recently I’ve been using this to do my job.” He nodded at his crystal. “And I’m a good assassin, for the record. I’ve just been off my game since showing up here…”

“I gave – give –  you that crystal?” Stolas asked, looking down at it. Blitzø nodded. Stolas gently slid his palm under Blitzø’s, lifting his hand to get a better look. There was a pink flush in his cheeks. Then he looked up at Blitzø again, brows pinching together adorably. Pretty pretty pretty – “Wait…does that mean that I – if I’m the one who gave you this, then – the one you have feelings for –?”

Blitzø couldn’t take it anymore. He pressed Stolas against the tall back of the couch, kneeling between those long legs and looking up at him.

“Remember when ya said that thing about demons either wantin’ your money or your body?” Blitzø asked. Stolas nodded, face still flushed pink. “I don’t give a shit about your money or anything else you own, but I really want that body. I want all of you, Stolas. You’re the one I want.” He placed his hands on Stolas’ thighs, rubbing his thumbs in circles on the insides of them. Stolas let out a breathy gasp, opening his legs wider in response.

“R-really?” Stolas said, as if he couldn’t believe it. Then he let out a pretty laugh. “Are you telling me that I was jealous of myself this whole time? Oh Blitzø, why didn’t you just tell me?” Blitzø ran his hands along the undersides of Stolas’ thighs, flicking his gaze between Stolas’ ruby eyes and his beak.

“I really didn’t wanna fuck this up,” he admitted. “I didn’t wanna rush things or freak ya out by springing my feelings on you when you only saw me as a childhood playdate from like twenty years ago –” He furrowed his brow. “This was my chance to do everything perfect. You deserve perfect –” Stolas put a hand on Blitzø’s cheek, smiling so sweetly at him. Satan, he wanted to kiss this bird, like, yesterday. He wanted to do a lot more than that.

“I’ve been starting to suspect that perfect is overrated,” Stolas confessed. “I don’t want some fantasy. I want this. I want you, desperately.” The bird’s face flushed even further. He ran a hand down Blitzø’s chest, reaching the button on his pants. “I-I want all of you, everywhere, on top of me, i-inside of me –” before Stolas could finish his sentence Blitzø’s mouth was on his, kisses desperate and needy right away, as if the tension that’d been building between them the past few days finally snapped all at once.

Stolas moved to wrap his legs around him, pulling him even closer. Encouraged, Blitzø licked his way into the beautiful bird’s mouth, causing Stolas to gasp and shudder and reciprocate with just as much enthusiasm.

“Fuck, Stolas,” Blitzø breathed. “Can I take this off?” He was playing with the clasp of his cape. Stolas nodded and Blitzø moved to pull it off with shaky hands, Stolas’ face buried in his neck, using his beak to push the fabric of his turtleneck away as he left a trail of kisses and bites that was making Blitzø lose his mind.

The crowned hat had already fallen off, discarded on the floor. He moved to kiss Stolas again, cupping his face.

“I need you on the bed,” he directed, voice verging on pleading, a rough quality to it. Stolas opened his eyes to look at him. Blitzø started to second-guess himself, but before he could take it back Stolas kissed Blitzø’s cheek and gave him a nod.

He pulled the bird to his feet, leading him over to the bed. Stolas positioned himself on his back, keeping his eyes on Blitzø as Blitzø crawled on top of him, tail whishing from side to side. He looked down at his bird, those white downy cheeks flushed pink. Then he grabbed both of Stolas’ hands, pinning them above his head.

“Blitzy,” Stolas breathed, arching his back to press his chest against Blitzø’s.

“Back to callin’ me that, eh? Only use ‘Blitzø’ when you’re pissed?” he asked with a grin. He ran his tail along the apex of Stolas’ thighs, light and teasing. Stolas shook his head.

“No, I like both. But…I was pissed,” he confessed, looking embarrassed as he turned his face away. “Well, more sad than angry. And it felt silly to use a nickname given the conclusion I’d drawn.” He pouted as he looked up at Blitzø. “But time travel? In retrospect it does make a lot of sense. I’m kicking myself for not realizing it sooner.” Then he let out a laugh. “You even asked if my grimoire had a time travel spell.” He continued to giggle and Blitzø couldn’t help his own grin. “How did I forget that?”

“And after bragging about how you have a ‘very good memory’,” Blitzø teased. Stolas continued to giggle.

“I usually do! I suppose I just – ngh –” Blitzø started kissing his neck, applying more pressure with his tail around Stolas’ thighs, “g-got distracted,” he said airily. Blitzø left a playful nip. Then he let go of Stolas’ hands, pulling away to take off his boots and toss them on the floor.

He put both hands on Stolas’ waist now, running his palms up and down fancy red fabric. He wanted to feel those soft feathers instead. He thought about what Stolas said about wanting Blitzø inside of him. Fuck he wanted that too. It was driving him crazy how much he wanted that.

They started kissing again, Blitzø’s knees pressed against the outside of Stolas’ hips, one forearm on the mattress, his free hand holding the side of Stolas’ neck. If only Stolas could read his mind, could know all the things Blitzø wanted to do to him right now.

He wanted to feel Stolas shiver against him, hear him pant and gasp in his ear, hear the needy way he’d call out Blitzø’s name again and again –

He grabbed a fistful of the sheets as he felt the greedy slide of Stolas’ tongue against his. Stolas was starting to roll his hips upwards, and Blitzø had a feeling the bird wasn’t even aware. Fuck. Stolas probably had no idea what he was doing to him. He pulled away, sliding his hand down from Stolas’ neck to trail along gold buttons.

“Do you wanna go further tonight, Stolas?” he asked, tryna sound cool and collected when he felt very much the opposite. Stolas swallowed thickly, already looking half-blissed out. His hands were still over his head, not having moved even though Blitzø let go of ‘em.

“Yes, I want to,” he said firmly. “If you want to.” Blitzø kissed him again, slow and sensual and with Stolas humming happily into his mouth before he pulled away.

“Yeah, I want to. I really want to.” He began undoing Stolas’ buttons, not breaking eye contact with those ruby eyes, wanting to see even the tiniest reactions on his pretty flushed face. 

Looking down at Stolas’ exposed chest now, all buttons undone, Blitzø started to leave a trail of kisses leading downwards. He grabbed the fluff of his chest in his fist, giving it a tug that had Stolas moaning and arching into it. Heh. The masochist. He looked up from where he was kissing Stolas’ stomach and saw Stolas propped up on his elbows, giving him a half-lidded gaze that was incredibly sexy. Blitzø pulled off his bracers and his gloves. Then he slid a hand up Stolas’ shorts, assessing how far along he was.

“Ah!” Stolas threw his head back at the simple touch. He was panting now, gripping the sheets with both hands. Blitzø kept moving his fingers, entranced by the sight. It was like Stolas had never been touched like this before. Blitzø pulled his fingers away, moving back upwards until he was looking down at Stolas again. Stolas cupped Blitzø’s face, pulling him in for a kiss, leading with tongue as he pressed the soft feathers of his chest into Blitzø. Blitzø’s eyes closed, kissing him back as he felt himself getting increasingly hard. Everything felt hot, the room hazy.

He found the will to pull away, again pressing Stolas’ hands above his head and into the mattress, interlocking their fingers. Because this was the first time they were doing this. At least on Stolas’ end. And in a way, for Blitzø, too. He almost forgot. Usually he could keep his focus in these kinds of situations easy, take the lead. But for some reason his pressing need was forcefully overtaking his common sense. He bit his lip hard, letting the sting of pain bring him back to reality.

“We need to go over some rules before we keep going, birdie,” he said, feeling more coherent now. He adjusted his hands so they were holding Stolas’ wrists.

“I d-do like rules.” Blitzø smirked. He rubbed his thumbs over the pulses on Stolas' wrists and he shuddered in response, eyes fluttering.

“Then listen closely. If I ask ya for a color, that means I’m checkin’ in to see how you’re feeling.” Stolas nodded, paying close attention. “If you say ‘green’ that means you’re having a good time,” Blitzø explained, running his tail along Stolas’ thigh. “If you say ‘yellow’ that means you want me to slow down or ease up.” He stopped moving his tail, resting it on Stolas’ hip and making small figure-8s with the tip. “If you say ‘red’ that means you want me to stop.” He moved his tail off of Stolas’ body entirely.

“When would I ever want you to stop?” Stolas asked, shaking his head in disbelief as he pressed his chest into Blitzø’s again, arching into him, parting his legs even more. Blitzø swallowed thickly, feeling his restraint waver, but then he furrowed his brow, shaking his head slightly.

“Everyone has their limits. I need to trust that you’ll tell me when you’ve reached yours. Pain and pleasure can walk a very thin line, Stols.”

“You too?” Stolas asked, and Blitzø looked at him in confusion. “You’ll say ‘red’ if you’ve reached your limit?”

“Yeah, I will. This whole business goes both ways,” he said with a wink. Stolas raised a brow. Then he gave Blitzø a mischievous smile.

“Business, hm?” He slid a hand out of Blitzø’s grasp, moving to cup his hardness. Blitzø hissed, biting his lip. He felt Stolas rub his hand against it, giving Blitzø an innocent look as he batted his eyes up at him. “Then is this my job interview?” He tugged Blitzø’s turtleneck out of his pants and then moved to run his free hand along Blitzø’s back, talons lightly grazing skin as Blitzø slowly rocked his hips in time with Stolas’ other hand. “Well I certainly hope I qualify. There are a variety of ‘jobs’ I’d love to do for you, Blitzy.”

Blitzø’s couldn’t help but moan at that, feeling his own face heat up. Then he laughed, giving Stolas’ hip a teasing whack of his tail. The bird was already grinning, moving to rest his hand on Blitzø’s leg. Blitzø pressed a kiss on his cheek.

“Wanna be bossed around by me that bad, pretty bird?” he asked, moving to kiss Stolas’ neck again as he pulled Stolas’ romper off of his shoulders. He slid a hand down Stolas’ torso, reaching the apex of his thighs and resuming his earlier ‘work’. “Let’s start with a simple question then: color?”

“Green,” Stolas gasped as Blitzø curled his fingers. “V-very green.”

“Good.” He took the pendant off his neck with his free hand while Stolas whimpered and gasped under him, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure. He used his tail to set it on the nightstand. Then he pulled off his turtleneck with one hand, tossing it on the floor.

Stolas placed a hand on Blitzø’s bare chest as he panted, looking up at Blitzø, a desperate expression on his face.

“A-am I doing okay?” Stolas asked. “I could – I just –” his expression twisted into something that looked less like pleasure and more like some mix of shame and sadness. Blitzø slid his hand out from between Stolas’ thighs, resting it on his waist.

“You’re doing great, Stolas,” Blitzø assured him, pressing his forehead against Stolas’ before pulling away to give him a soft look. “What’s on your mind? You can tell me.” Stolas searched his expression.

“It’s only…I’m worried that you’re doing all the work while I’m just…lying here…” Stolas confessed quietly. Blitzø moved to wrap his tail around Stolas’ tail and shook his head.

“I don’t think you realize just how much you’re turning me on,” he said honestly. Then he gave Stolas a smirk. “Whattaya think your hand was just rubbing against a second ago? I can promise you that’s not my gun.” Stolas let out a giggle.

“Oh but it certainly felt like a weapon,” he replied, giving him a flirty look. Blitzø laughed.

“Ya got that right. I told you it was industrial-sized.” Stolas continued to laugh, finally smiling again.

“Yes, and didn’t you mention something about lower backs? Should I be concerned?” Blitzø grinned, grabbing the underside of one of Stolas’ legs and lifting it slightly, opening Stolas up further.

“Don’t worry, pretty bird, I’ll stretch ya out reeeaal good,” he promised. He leaned down to kiss Stolas again, and Stolas moved to unbutton Blitzø’s pants, helping him take them off. They worked together to slide the romper off of Stolas next. The feeling of those feathers against Blitzø’s skin made him start to grind against Stolas, nipping at his collarbone.

“You’re – ah – so good at this, Blitzy,” Stolas whispered in his ear, talons running along his back. “And I never knew this could feel – ngh – so…so…” Blitzø chuckled, moving upwards to bite Stolas’ neck and feeling his tail feathers flare out as he moaned, his own tail still wrapped around them.

“We’ve always been good at sex,” Blitzø admitted. The sex had been the easy part. It was the other stuff – feelings – that made things complicated. But now, being with this Stolas after sharing so much of themselves, after working through shit – maybe feelings didn’t need to be so complicated. And maybe they made the sex even better.

“So we’ve had sex before? In the future?” Stolas asked breathily, pressing his body up into Blitzø. “I have so many questions. I mean – how did we reunite in your timeline? Did I also find you in a closet?”

“Not a closet,” Blitzø said, moving to kiss down Stolas’ neck, making his way back to his chest. “I might’ve gotten caught crashing your party,” he confessed. Stolas let out a laugh, running his hands along Blitzø’s horns as Blitzø reached his stomach.

“It must have been a boring, stuffy party,” Stolas said. “I can’t imagine you enjoying it. I know I certainly don’t care for them.”

“We had fun,” Blitzø said, looking up at him to give him a devilish smile. He saw Stolas’ face flush in understanding. Then he grabbed Stolas’ thighs, keeping them held apart as he continued his way down.

“So in the future…we’re in a relationship?” Stolas asked. Blitzø hesitated. He was kneeling at the end of the bed, hands on Stolas’ knees now.

“No,” Blitzø said, looking down at the expensive burgundy fabric. “It’s…things are…complicated, in the future. Shit happens. I don’t – I don’t know how much I wanna tell ya, to be honest.” Stolas was propped up on his elbows now, head tilted in curiosity.

“Do you want to be in a relationship?” he asked. Blitzø worried at his lip. Then he nodded, rubbing circles into Stolas’ knees with his thumbs.

“Yeah.”

“With me? Or with…future me?” Stolas asked. Blitzø’s eyes widened slightly as he met Stolas’ curious gaze. He opened his mouth to reply. Then he shook his head.

“You’re both – I have feelings for you both – no, it’s not – it’s not like you’re two separate –” He exhaled. “I wanna be in a relationship with you, Stolas. Time doesn’t matter just – how we spend that time – how we grow together – fuck I don’t even know what I’m saying, I’m shit with words –” he let out in a rush, closing his eyes and pressing his palms to his forehead.

He felt gentle hands on his cheeks and he opened his eyes in surprise to see Stolas in front of him, legs folded under himself as he looked at Blitzø with a soft smile.

“I have a feeling that future me wanted a relationship with you as well.” Blitzø let out a tired scoff.

“That’s just cuz you don’t know the shitty things I’ve done. You don’t know what happened –” Blitzø began to argue. Stolas gave his cheeks a light squeeze.

“Perhaps. But I’ve gotten to know you. There are things about you that I–well, that I admire. That I love,” he confessed, giving Blitzø a nervous smile, “and they are things that aren’t so easily changed. In fact, I believe those qualities are at the center of who you are, Blitzø. So yes, I think I have this prediction correct, at least,” he teased, referencing what Blitzø said before on the couch.

Blitzø felt the promise of tears again, that sting at the back of his eyes. He swallowed, placing his hands over Stolas’, which were still cupping his face.

“I –” he hesitated, looking away for a second before meeting Stolas’ gaze. “Thanks,” he said, voice hoarse with a sincerity he wasn’t used to. He didn’t realize how much he needed to hear that. To know that someone saw something valuable in him, and was so sure that that wouldn’t change, even when he fucked up –

Blitzø thought his only worth was what he could do for others. What he could accomplish. But here Stolas was telling him that he loved who Blitzø was.

Satan, he wished he knew this on that full moon, and during all the fucked-up things that happened after. But it was obvious when he really thought about it.

Stolas gave him that crystal even though that’d mean their deal was over because he cared about Blitzø. And even after Blitzø hurt him, Stolas didn’t hate him for it. When Blitzø’s life was on the line he showed up and sacrificed everything for him.

Blitzø was used to people leaving after he hurt them. He wasn’t used to them coming back, not like Stolas did.

He thought about how confident he was when he first figured out he was in the past. He remembered thinking about those spinning plates. When plates broke, they were useless. When he broke them, that meant he was useless, too. That’s why he was so desperate to keep them spinning.

But plates were bound to break, weren’t they? Unless they were kept locked away, collecting dust. Maybe this whole time he’d been looking for someone who’d just…sit with him and those jagged pieces. Not criticize him for dropping them, not try to clean them up like they never existed, not try to glue them back together and pretend everything was fixed – but just, be okay with the brokenness. And ask who the fuck thought spinning plates on wooden poles was even a good idea anyway.

Maybe…maybe Blitzø could fuck up and it’d be okay. Maybe he didn’t need to be better to be wanted.

“Color?” Stolas asked, pressing his forehead against Blitzø’s. Blitzø let out a laugh.

“Green,” he said, running his hands up and down the top of Stolas’ thighs. He lifted his chin to kiss Stolas, sweeter this time. But sweetness quickly shifted into something more, the desperation from before returning with a vengeance.

He moved Stolas’ legs apart with his knees, shifting to get closer as they continued to kiss. Stolas was still sitting, legs folded under him. Blitzø pressed the end of his tail between Stolas’ legs. Stolas grinded against it, panting again as he slid up and down, chasing a high Blitzø was more than happy to give.

“That’s it pretty bird,” he whispered in Stolas’ ear. “Look how good you’re being for me. I’m gonna make you feel so good.” He gently grabbed Stolas’ neck as they continued to kiss. “You said you want me inside of you, right?” Stolas nodded, whimpering now as he continued to grind against the end of Blitzø’s tail. Blitzø coaxed Stolas to lie on his back again. Then he removed his tail and Stolas whined, face flushed.

“Blitzy – hah – please –” he started to beg. “I need you. Please fuck me –” Satan, the way Stolas said that. Blitzø’s face was between the bird’s legs now.

“I will baby,” he promised. “But there’s a lot more I wanna show you first.” He began to kiss the insides of Stolas’ thighs, running his tongue along soft feathers as Stolas threw his head back. Blitzø had to grab Stolas’ hips to keep them in place.

“Ah – ngh – Blitzø –!” Blitzø sucked and bit along Stolas’ thighs, teasing him just a little. He wasn’t sure how long he could keep it together himself. Especially when Stolas sounded like that. And he smelled so good too. He noticed that earlier.

“Are you wearing that poison perfume that’s not-poisonous again?” Blitzø teased between kisses and bites.

“N-no,” Stolas said, “not t-today. But the room does smell rather – hah – familiar…” Blitzø finally kissed between the very center of Stolas’ thighs, then dragged his tongue upwards. The bird moaned, pressing into it as much as he could, hips still pinned into the mattress. “Yes!” he gasped. “I want your tongue all over me Blitzy, until I’m absolutely covered in you –!”

Now there was the crazy dirty talk Blitzø was more familiar with. He grinned, moving his tongue in practiced shapes – cuz yeah, he practiced after Moxxie showed him up on that job. Stolas arched his back, throwing an arm over his eyes as his chest heaved.

“I’ve never needed it this badly before!” Stolas continued to ramble. “I-it feels like everything is on fire, and my senses have – ngh – heightened –”

“Fuck, me too, Stolas,” Blitzø agreed between licks and kisses. “Ever since we sat down on that couch all I could think about was tasting you, feeling you under me, clenching around my –”

“W-wait, I – ah – do know this smell,” Stolas said, seeming to realize something as he clutched the sheets, rocking his hips against Blitzø’s tongue. “Burning, something is being burned that makes it smell like…mm…like –”

“Probably the candles, yeah?” Blitzø said, using his fingers so he could reply properly, his other hand running up and down Stolas’ thigh. “Are they scented?” He smiled. “Ya know there’s a ‘horny’ candle I bought once –”

“R-red!” Stolas called out suddenly, and Blitzø quickly pulled away from Stolas, looking at him in surprise. Stolas lifted himself up onto his elbows, looking around wildly, chest still heaving and pupils visible. He waved his arm and one of the cylindrical candles floated over to him. He grabbed it, looking at it closely as he sat up fully. Then he dipped a finger into the wax, lifting his finger up to his eyes.

“Did ya…wanna use wax?” Blitzø asked, unsure what was going on. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Shit, Stolas, I thought I did something wrong –”

“Fuck,” Stolas said. He sent that candle away and levitated a new one over. He checked that one. Then he quickly sent that one away too. He looked around the room again, hugging his arms to his chest and shifting backwards to rest his back against the headboard.

“What’s wrong?” Blitzø asked, still kneeling at the other end of the bed. He felt like he was gonna throw up. Stolas looked at him, a panic still in his eyes. “Did I –?”

“No,” Stolas said quickly, knees bent and close to his chest. “It’s Stella,” he said, face twisted, clearly upset. Blitzø shook his head.

“I don’t understand.” He hesitated. “Do you – do ya wanna wait until you’re divorced? Cuz that’s okay, we can stop –”

“But don’t you feel like you need to have sex right now?” Stolas asked. Blitzø looked down at the very obvious bulge in his underwear.

“I mean, yeah, I’m horny-as-fuck right now –”

“Because that witch put fucking aphrodisiacs in all of these candles!” Stolas said, waving his arms around at the many lit candles scattered around the room. Blitzø blinked at him for a moment.

“The fuck?” he said after a pause. “Why?” Stolas was massaging his temples now.

“She probably thought we'd end up in this situation somehow, and I’d throw myself at you and you’d reject me,” he said with a bitter laugh. “Or you would sleep with me only to take off with some valuables when you got the chance –” Blitzø winced. “Honestly. I bet Andrealphus gave her the idea. She never comes up with complex plans on her own,” he frowned, “but this one still seems half-baked at best.” Blitzø moved closer to him.

“I don’t give a flying fuck about those two,” he said. “They can do Hell a favor and eat shit ‘n die.” He saw the discomfort written all over Stolas’ face. “But I do care about how you’re feeling right now, Stolas. We really can stop if ya want –”

“I don’t,” Stolas confessed, shaking his head. “But,” he met Blitzø’s gaze with uncertain eyes, “if it wasn’t for the aphrodisiacs we inhaled, are still inhaling,” Blitzø noticed that Stolas’ face was still flushed. He was still panting. His pupils were still there. Blitzø wasn’t doing any better, “would you still want this right now, with me –?” Blitzø moved to grab his hands.

“Yes,” he said. “You really think I wouldn’t?” Stolas looked at him so sadly, hesitant to answer, looking almost like he wanted to run away again. Blitzø gave his hands a squeeze. Stolas exhaled.

“I…I’m not used to being cared for without some sort of price or condition attached to it,” he confessed. Blitzø’s grip on his hands slackened a little, but he didn’t let go. He did look away in shame, though. That hit a little too close to home, for a lotta reasons. He looked back at Stolas, thinking about those broken plates again.

“I get it,” he said. “It can be a lot more straightforward when there’re strings attached.” Something to hide behind, something to push the blame onto.

“And yet it never feels straightforward,” Stolas admitted. Blitzø smiled bitterly.

“Yeah, you’re right.”

Blitzø could feel his desire, the need to make Stolas his all over again – to press him against the mattress and get back to what they were doing – clouding his thoughts. But he stubbornly ignored them, even though he was starting to pant himself, his tail flicking around and his hands twitching as they held Stolas’.

“I want this with you, Stolas, pervy candles or not. I’d still want this.” He moved to cup Stolas’ cheek, the one that had those three, black scratches on it before Stolas made them disappear with magic.

Then he found himself glancing at Stolas’ shoulder. No scar. Right. Striker hadn’t captured him at this point. Another thing that was Blitzø’s fault. He frowned, thinking about the scratches, and the poison, and the ink on Stolas’ clothes. Wait, was she the one who hired Striker? That bitch.

“Fuck her for hurting you,” he said, rubbing his thumb gently against Stolas’ cheek, pulling his gaze away from Stolas’ shoulder to search his ruby eyes. “And for trying to hurt you in as many ways as she can. I’m sorry I didn’t show up earlier –” Stolas shook his head.

“I’m just happy you’re here now,” he said with a smile. “I’m sorry I doubted you, and then made it so difficult to hear you out.” Blitzø kissed him.

“Anything else we should go over?” he asked. Stolas swallowed thickly, parting his knees again and setting his hands down to rest on the sheets.

“We can talk more, later, yes? I-I think my thoughts are preoccupied by other things –”

“Fuck, me too,” Blitzø said in a rush, and they crashed towards each other in a heated kiss, Blitzø fingers tangled in his headfeathers, pressing Stolas against the headboard as Stolas whimpered and gasped into his mouth and asked for more.

Blitzø whistled to himself as he stepped through the portal leading to his apartment, unable to wipe the grin from his face. They blew out the horny candles eventually, although Stolas was pretty sure whatever aphrodisiacs were burning in them were spent. Heh. A lot like the two of them were. Then they’d napped, cuddled together in that big comfy bed for a few hours. After that they took a long, warm bath, Blitzø teaching Stolas all about the importance of aftercare. It was…really nice. He wanted to stay the whole night, Stolas in his arms. Stolas wanted that, too.

But they didn’t wanna risk that hag coming back in the morning to find them together. They both knew she’d turn it into another fight for Octavia to overhear. So they agreed it’d be best if Blitzø didn’t stay the night. This time, at least.

“I’m going to talk to Octavia,” Stolas had told him. “I’ve been putting this conversation off for too long. I want things to change. Things need to change.” He paused, looking nervous. “I just hope she agrees.”

“Change can be…scary,” Blitzø admitted, “but she’ll get it. She’s a smart kid.”

“She is,” Stolas agreed, expression fond and maybe hopeful.

The portal closed behind Blitzø and he tip-toed through the darkness, not wanting to wake Loona up as he headed for the kitchen to get a cup of water. He had a feeling he’d be sore in the morning, and damn was he dehydrated as fuck. But then the lights flicked on suddenly, brightness hitting his eyes.

“What the shit!” he quickly shielded his eyes with his hands, bumping into the table next to the couch.

“You’re back,” Loona observed. “Long ‘walk’, huh?” It was probably only about an hour until sunrise at this point. Blitzø had been gone a while.

“Warn me before ya switch on the lights, ‘kay sweetie?” he said, lowering his hands as he let his eyes adjust. “What if I tripped and ate shit?”

“Yeah, whatever,” Loona said, “you’d probably eat shit in the dark too.” Blitzø turned to see her standing by the window. It was then that he noticed she was holding the grimoire in her hands. Her eyes were currently scanning over whatever pages she had it opened to. His eyes widened.

“Uhhhh, where’d ya get that, Loonie?” he asked, taking steps towards her. Then he felt his wrists lock together in front of him, bound by a glowing yellow cuff. “The fuck?” That’s when Loona grabbed him, tossing him onto the bean bag. Magical yellow ropes began shoot out of the floor, tying him down. “Loona! What’re you doing?”

“What am I doing?” Loona asked. “What the fuck have you been doing?” She kept the grimoire open in her hand, glaring down at him. “You’ve been acting suspicious-as-fuck. It’s like your whole personality’s changed! You’ve been stashing this under the couch! You’ve been lying out your asshole about, like, everything! You’re suddenly spending all your time with this royal family outta nowhere, according to Via. And then I look through your phone,” she pulled Blitzø’s phone out of her pocket, “and find texts from dates that haven’t even happened yet! And photos too! What the fuck is going on?”

“You looked through my phone?” Blitzø asked. Loona glared at him.

“That’s seriously all you have to say for yourself?” Blitzø opened his mouth to argue, but then he stopped. Guess he was telling everyone and their mother about this tonight.

“It’s – okay, lemme try to explain –” 

“You’re from the future,” she said. Blitzø’s eyes widened.

“You put that all together that fast?” Loona rolled her eyes.

“You dog-eared the page that has a time travel spell, dickhead!” she said, flipping pages and showing Blitzø the book. He saw the drawing of the hourglass along with all the confusing, squiggly lines of text. Then he saw where he folded one of the corners to save the page. Whoops.

“Okay, ya caught me. I’m from the future. But did ya really have to tie me down? This is interrogation cliché central, Loonie –”

“Why’re you here?” she asked.

“It was an accident!” he said, squirming against the magical ropes, but it was pointless. Had Loona been practicing this spell all night? This was her first time even using the grimoire. Admittedly, he was more proud than panicked. “I was flipping through the book and then I just – ended up here!”

“Then why’re you still here?” she pressed, suspicious. “Why haven’t you gone back yet?” Blitzø’s eyes widened. Loona’s eyes widened, too. Then they narrowed. “You didn’t know you can go back? Seriously, Blitzø –?”

“I just figured this was a one-way kinda deal! A do-over –!”

“That’s what I was worried about,” she said, expression grim. “What’d you fuck up in the future? Did the business go to shit? Did someone kick the bucket? If it’s Moxxie that’s fine but it better-the-fuck not be me –”

“Nobody died!” Blitzø said. “I, well, I got a little close there myself, but we’re all fiiiiine and the business is good! We have an office now!” Loona raised a brow.

“Things can’t all be great if you didn’t even think about going back.”

“Satan’s asshole, Loona. You should be a detective,” he said, even prouder now. She rolled her eyes. He sighed. “It’s…Stolas,” he admitted. “He saved my life…and fucked up his own in the process. This is my chance to make it up to him.” Loona seemed to consider that. Then she shook her head.

“So you’re okay with past you, the you from this time, fucking around in the future? Ya know, with that Stolas, probably?” Blitzø’s eyes widened.

“What?” he breathed, an icy chill in his veins. Loona ran a hand down her face. She closed the grimoire and Blitzø’s magical restraints disappeared.

“Did you even try and read the spell that put you here?” she asked, tapping the book cover. Blitzø moved to his feet, rubbing his wrists.

“I’ve been kinda dealing with a lot the past few days, Loonie. Didn’t have time for some light reading –”

“Fucking Christ, Blitzø,” she said, tossing the grimoire onto the couch. “When you got here, with all the stuff you had on you in the future, like that crystal I’m guessing, yeah?” she said, nodding at Blitzø’s wrist, “where'd you think the you from this time went? It's not like your mind just got shoved into his. So did you think he just, what? Disappeared?”

“Uhhhhhhhh…yeah?”

Loona groaned, massaging her temples.

“No," she said, dropping her hands. "You two swapped places. So however far into the future your dumbass is from, he’s there right now.” Blitzø stopped rubbing his wrists, gaze a million miles away as he struggled to make sense of what Loona just told him.

The past version of himself was in the future right now. With Stolas and everyone else. Stolas was living in his apartment and now his past, stupid, asshole self was there too. His gaze snapped back to Loona.

“Lightbulb finally on?” she asked, hand on her hip. How much time had passed since he showed up here? He counted on his fingers. About 3 days? His past self couldn’t possibly pull off any crazy bullshit in such a short amount of time, could he? 

Then he thought about the roller-coaster that was the last three days he just had. It'd felt more like months.

Fuck. Fucking fuck. Oh HELL no.