i want you tuned in to my eyes

Blitzø had been… preoccupied, lately. Not neglectful, never neglectful, but his attentions were clearly focused somewhere else. On someone else. 

After the trial, and Sinsmas, and the weeks it took Stolas to start feeling alive enough to go back to the office, a group of interns had come by, seeking out Blitzø to be a mentor of sorts. They seemed harmless enough, just a few young college students wanting some work experience — as if Stolas knew what that was like — and it was honestly sort of adorable to see them follow their boss around like little ducklings. 

They shadowed Blitzø while he cleaned weapons, met with clients, pretended to do paperwork… Lucifer, even during lunch they surrounded him and bombarded him with questions, like his leftover possibly-almost-certainly-spoiled spicy beef soup held the answers to the universe. 

The first intern Stolas became somewhat familiar with was Jemmie, who was, to put it lightly, quite the klutz. With her tall, thin build and wonky braces, she looked every part the clumsy nerd, always tripping over herself and dropping things. She at least appeared to mesh satisfactorily with her fellow students, though she often created small disasters for them everywhere she went. 

On the other end of the spectrum, as the only succubus of the group, Sasha kept to herself and had a bit of an attitude. However, she did her job admittedly well and had the smarts to show for it. Her conduct took after Loona’s casual cool air more than any of the imps, and Stolas wondered if perhaps she would feel more comfortable working across the hall with Verosika’s team. Heavens, was that a bigoted thing to think? 

The most productive of the intern quad was by far Jermaine — not to be confused with Jemmie — but he was also the most tedious to be around. He was anal to a fault, even getting on Moxxie’s nerves with how particular he was about everything, and it didn’t help that he acted as the spokesperson for his little group. Stolas was no stranger to clashing with Moxxie, but they had found somewhat of a middle ground through shared taste in media. Jermaine, however, was still very much a stubborn 18-year-old. The workflow may have improved thanks to him, but it was at the cost of half the office trying not to snap at the kid at any given moment. 

There wasn’t much to be said about Dempsey, honestly. Stolas found them rather lazy, and not in the secretly alert way that Sasha could be. Half the time they were asleep on the job, dozing off whether they were seated or standing, and it was difficult to tell when they were actually awake with the way their hair covered most of their face. How convenient.

But anyway, back to the important things — like Blitzø! Regardless of the interns’ differing dispositions, they all still managed to latch onto Blitzø’s every move as if they were leeches. Even real leeches would have been more pleasing than what the office experience had become, and Stolas had had enough of those little creatures to last a lifetime. 

Sure, it was nice to see Blitzø get so involved and smile so brightly at the praise. If there was anyone who deserved it, it was his lovely, hard-working leader. But after a month of the same pattern, Stolas was beginning to get a little peeved. He did his receptionist work as expected, and the others still spoke with him often enough, but by the time he, Blitzø, and Loona got back to the apartment, the imp would simply cook dinner, wash the dishes, and then knock out on his beanbag in the corner. 

Sometimes he would wake back up in the middle of the night and putter around the small space; typically he’d either go on a hardcore scrubbing mission in the kitchen and bathroom (neither of which needed it anymore with how often it happened) or pick up any articles of clothing or trash that happened to be lying about. All Stolas could do was pretend to be asleep and feel guilty that Blitzø was cleaning up what was very likely his mess. 

They hadn’t exactly… talked, as it were, about whatever their relationship was. Stolas still wasn’t quite sure how much of Blitzø’s kindness was out of guilt and how much was some kind of belated realization that he actually did care, but that latter thought just made Stolas feel like his head was back up in the clouds, obscuring reality and presenting him with a charming fictional escape. Frankly, he couldn’t afford to do that anymore. 

Self-awareness was no fun. 

But now that he was back on his medication and actually somewhat functional, Stolas had spent long enough in a depressive haze to want to get out of his head for good and maybe take some action that would, this time, hopefully not cause such a disastrous chain of events. Surely at this point Blitzø would be kind even in his rejection; it wouldn’t hurt any less, but Stolas could convince himself that at the very least Blitzø wouldn’t kick him out to the streets over a botched love confession. Well, a second botched love confession.

So, a day later, Stolas had a plan. 

Actually it was a carefully chosen list of multiple plans, but he dearly hoped that it wouldn’t take more than the first one. Being so distant from his darling-slash-boss was absolutely killing him, and if he had his way then they would be inseparable, joined at the hip everywhere they went. 

Hm, that may have been a tad dramatic and also physically impossible with their height difference. No one in his life had ever said he wasn’t dramatic, though, so he supposed it was fitting. 

The plans had to be perfect. Blitzø liked sex and sexy things, and at one point it had practically been their love language. Or perhaps not love language… but a language they spoke! So his ideas banked on that information holding true — Stolas was trying to meet him halfway, and if drawing him in through false confidence was the answer, then by Lucifer he would try. ‘Fake it until you make it’ was a popular phrase, was it not?

He didn’t have much to his name anymore, but he would use what he did have at his disposal; his body, clothes, and creativity. If he had anything going for him, it was the ways in which his imagination could run wild. 

—✧✿✧—

i.

The next Monday back at work, it was difficult to act like it was a normal day and not the first day of enacting his top secret plans. He needed to space them out at least a little throughout the week so as not to raise suspicion, but if he wasn’t obvious enough then things would never pan out as intended. 

Today’s was simple and not particularly unique, but it seemed like a tried and true method of seduction if his favorite telenovelas had any merit to them. The demons in his stories could never resist when their love interest showed off their assets, and it nearly always resulted in a bout (or two or five) of passionate lovemaking. He would certainly not complain if he succeeded in garnering the same outcome, already daydreaming about their carnal reunion.  

Pencil case in hand, Stolas attempted to look like he was busy digging through it in search of something, but really all his attention was on the door to Blitzø’s personal office, waiting for the man himself to come out. Stolas had made sure to wear the tightest pants he owned that day; his current wardrobe may be limited, but he was rather fond of the way he filled out his clothes better now that he was eating well and taking care of himself. Today’s self-care just so happened to include putting on a show for his special someone. 

He yearned for lingerie to throw on underneath, or at least something nicer than the granny panties and boxers he now regularly alternated between, but it wasn’t worth spending a whole paycheck on something he’d have nowhere to hide. Based on the laundry, however, Blitzø seemed to own multiple lacy numbers that had never gotten to shine during their past rendezvous. A shame, truly, but if this scheme worked out…

At the barest hint of the door opening, Stolas steered his thoughts back on track to pull out a pen, and whoops— there went the entire contents of the pencil case! It was looking like he had to bend over just so to pick them up… slowly… one at a time… Everyone arched their back and raised their tail when leaning over, right? It was extremely natural and casual and not something that only happened in fictional romances. 

He could hear Blitzø’s words get caught in his throat as he took in the sight before him, and Stolas silently cheered to himself. Soon enough he would have his imp all to himself without any other pesky demons in the way, and they could spend their time talking and cuddling and possibly, just maybe, having some mindblowing— 

“Oh, let me help you with that!” a high, reedy voice said. 

Before Stolas could even right himself, Jemmie had somehow managed to slip on one of the fallen pencils and fell straight on her bottom, rendering the entire office silent. Poor girl. Perhaps he would feel more sympathy if she hadn’t interrupted his very vital, very important performance. 

“C’mon,” Blitzø said, and for a moment Stolas thought he was being spoken to. It had still worked! Blitzø would take him somewhere private and have his way with him, hands roaming all over his body, unable to let go for even a second after witnessing his irresistible backside being put on display. But then: “I ain’t not-paying you to sit on your ass, let’s get a move on!” 

Stolas’ splayed tail feathers withered on the spot, his petty disappointment hard to hide. At least he was still turned away and would not have to worry Blitzø with what was no doubt an unsightly expression on his face, but he couldn’t help chittering in frustration.  

Art by Ritsu.

He would simply have to move on to phase two and try again, using today’s information to better improve his next idea. Desire was a science, after all.

—✧✿✧—

ii.

Stolas had never indulged in coffee before having his title and status revoked. Tea had always been the proper choice of beverage for someone in his position, each blend perfectly chosen for the time of day and magicked with the needed effects. Sleepy but need to stay awake? Add some vitality. Too restless and wired to sleep? Add some tranquility. Lacking in the luck department? Add some serendipity. 

The tea likely had some of those qualities on its own through carefully sourced ingredients, but it had been ingrained in him to use his abilities so casually for every little thing. To go from that to having to rely on his own lacking skills… it made him realize that perhaps tea wasn’t so special after all. 

Stolas still occasionally sipped on it at the apartment; Blitzø had gone through an entire checklist he’d titled Burd Needz early on in his stay, and somehow the imp knew that that’s what he consumed. He truly did not want to disappoint him after such a thoughtful gesture, but he was learning that he much preferred the coffee from Fuckin’ Donuts in downtown IMP City. The team didn’t do a coffee run every single day, though, so sometimes he resorted to office-made. 

All that to say, Stolas was about to break the fucking coffee machine. On purpose. 

Peeking at his surroundings and making sure no one was around to witness his tampering, Stolas tried to remain unnoticed as he stepped into the break room towards his target. And with one more swivel of his head to be especially sure, he began to pull at various parts of the thing, intent on dismantling it in some way. 

On any normal day, Stolas would have absolutely no trouble with breaking the coffee maker. He actually had caused issues with it multiple times before, as he hadn’t been used to this charming little form of beverage dispenser. But for some Lucifer forsaken reason, the damned thing refused to so much as dent. 

Huffing in annoyance, Stolas stalked over to the far end of the counter where a small axe laid. Surely Millie would forgive him for using one of her backup weapons if she cared about it so little to leave it lying around. 

Swinging his arms back, axe above his head, Stolas let it rush forward with as much force as he could manage. 

Just as he jammed it into the top of the machine, Loona walked in and froze at whatever she interpreted to be happening. She merely said, “Yeah, I’m not dealing with this shit,” then turned around to walk right back out. 

Well! It wasn’t her whose eye he was trying to catch, so he could deal with the embarrassment. For now, he had to wait for Blitzø to come in for attempt number two. Stolas hopped up onto the counter to wait for his moment. 

He did feel slightly bad for causing Loona any trouble, but he liked to think she was used to his eccentricities by now. It helped a great deal that she rarely ever asked questions and simply let him exist. It was a new experience after years of getting berated for so much as breathing incorrectly at the palace. 

Blitzø, on the other hand, had been a wee bit overbearing during his first month sharing a space with them. But after the devastation of Sinsmas, it seemed he had mellowed out a little. Stolas couldn’t lie, he did miss the constant attention sometimes, but ultimately it was nice to have room to stretch (both literally and figuratively) when he needed it. Clearly he had accepted too much room, though, with how far away Blitzø felt now. 

He would figure it out; it’s what he was actively working on at this very moment. 

Before long, he could hear Blitzø’s oh-so-endearing chattering, so he slipped off the counter and looked as if he were trying to figure out what was wrong with the coffee machine. 

“You, uh, you good there, Stols?” Blitzø asked as he entered, slightly concerned. 

“Oh, hello Blitzø!” Stolas said, putting on a chipper voice. “I’m just fixing up this contraption, as you can see. But oh dear, I’ve been working up a sweat! Let me just take this off…” 

Art by Neuro.

He unbuttoned his blouse with surprising ease and pulled it off, surreptitiously fluffing the feathers on his chest while he was at it. To keep it going, Stolas bent over at an angle and grabbed the axe that was still wedged into the coffee maker. He couldn’t quite get it out, but he certainly put his all into flexing what little muscle he had while making sure his arms were in the optimal position for Blitzø to notice. 

Glancing quickly over at the imp, Stolas saw that his jaw was hanging open and his face was flushed. This one would be a success, he could already tell! It was honestly quite relieving that he was capable of getting that type of reaction from him even now. Unless he was completely misreading the situation and it was actually mortification… no, he couldn’t think like that. 

“Don’t worry, dear, I’ll get this sorted out in no time at all,” he reassured as he stretched his torso out further, caring less and less about keeping up the facade for his audience of one. 

Or, it appeared, his audience of two. 

“C’mon man, I was gonna use that.” 

Sasha’s voice pulled Stolas out of his little show, suddenly remembering where exactly he was. He was about to profusely apologize for acting like a fool in the workplace, but Blitzø was grabbing his discarded blouse and tugging Stolas’ wrist towards the bathroom. It was a success after all! Oh, how scandalous to be dragged off and ravished in the workplace facilities. 

Perhaps Blitzø would gag him with the blouse to keep quiet while the others dealt with clients, or maybe he’d be asked to ride Blitzø’s face until the man could hardly breathe, as he had often done in the past. Or he had a strap-on and necessary accessories stashed in the bathroom and had found Stolas dashing enough even without his powers to desire him in that way. The possibilities were endless!

He hooted in anticipation, beak opening to say some form of his well-practiced Oh, it’s been so long, Blitzy, but instead of joining him, Blitzø simply patted his arm and told him to take his time freshening up. The click of the door closing had Stolas staring at it in disbelief for a solid thirty seconds. 

Then he used his blouse to let out a muffled scream of frustration. 

—✧✿✧—

iii.

It was a new day, Lucifer bless. 

Stolas had stayed up late the previous night, secretly working on a demanding art project. In actuality, all he really did was cut one hundred and fifty little hearts out of printer paper to create some confetti. It would have been much simpler to buy it premade, but there was no way Stolas would have been able to get away to a craft store without alerting Blitzø. Handmade items showed thought and care, didn’t they?

It was difficult as all Hell trying to find the time to get his snipping in, what with being around his flatmates practically 24/7. But he’d planned for it and was able to get some done at his desk while the others were out on missions, then during a few suspiciously long bathroom trips, and then finally while facing the back of the couch once Blitzø’s heart and breath had settled into sleep. 

For this one, he planned to combine the art of presentation with even bolder clothing choices. After some additional research, Stolas had found that demons tended to be more aroused by their lovers dressing scantily than in no clothes at all — something to do with leaving part of their body up to imagination. It seemed he had overdone it the last time by going shirtless and made it slightly too underwhelming with the tight pants, but the third time was the charm. He would make up for it and hopefully ensnare his beloved in the process. 

Blitzø had gone in to work earlier than him, Stolas having pretended to sleep in. It took some convincing, but he’d managed to get the imp to leave by promising that he would be fine taking the bus there this one time after getting ready. He needed the mini skirt and spaghetti strap tank top to be a surprise, or else it would not be as effective. 

The bus ride there was, admittedly, a sensory nightmare, but Stolas had dealt with worse. He’d even thrown a pair of ratty sweatpants over the skirt to fend off any unwanted advances (or at least any more than usual), quickly stashing them in his bag as soon as he arrived. If anyone had seen him pathetically hopping in place while trying to get them off, they were kind enough to not say anything. 

Millie raised an eyebrow when he entered the office, giving him a knowing smirk. His faceplate reddened beneath its feathers, but it was heartwarming to know she was rooting for him. 

He did not comprehend a single word of the paperwork he was pretending to look over as he stood by his desk in waiting. One hand was leaning on the surface of the desk, the other buried in the tight pocket of his skirt, armed with his meticulously constructed confetti. Nerves had him clutching it maybe too tightly, but he had to believe in himself. 

At the sound of Blitzø’s laughter coming closer, Stolas tripped over plain air masterfully, heart-shaped confetti scattering around him and fluttering to the floor in practiced perfection. No one had to know that he scraped an elbow on the way down; he barely even registered it himself. It was going about as perfect as he could have hoped. 

Blitzø’s mouth was open in awe, smoothly transitioning into a heated simper of a grin. Yes, the plan was finally, finally working! The man looked ready to pounce, preferably onto Stolas and right between his legs where one was sinfully hiked up, the fabric of his mini skirt working to its limits to remain intact. Blitzø even started sauntering forward, tail moving seductively in time with the sway of his hips. 

“Uh, am I gonna have to clean all of that up?” 

Fucking Jermaine. It took all the willpower Stolas had to not yell at the kid to fuck off, the interruption causing Blitzø to freeze. 

“Aw shit,” Blitzø swore. “Yep, sorry buddy. You’re on cleaning duty today.” 

He patted Jermaine’s shoulder and headed off to his personal office, sparing at least one glance back. Stolas couldn’t tell if it was in consolation or yearning. Fuck! So close. That had been the best reaction yet, though; the clear glimpse of interest in his eyes, the sharpness of his fangs as they bit into those rudely smirking lips… he could feel himself getting wet at the instant replay he had going on in his head. 

“Your high— um, Stolas,” Moxxie said with a certain edge to his voice. It was rare to hear it directed at Stolas, so he twisted his head around to listen. “Could you please get off the floor? I did not need to see up your skirt at the office.” 

“So you’d be amenable to seeing up my skirt if we weren’t at the office, hm?” he quipped, rising to his talons anyway as Jermaine began sweeping up the crumpled confetti. 

The two of them halted, staring at each other with wide eyes as they both took in the comment. 

“Oh my Lucifer, please ignore that. It— it was merely on instinct, I swear to you,” Stolas said in a rush. 

“Well, I am definitely erasing that from my memory, so no worries there,” Moxxie said with a deeply flushed face. “No offense.” 

Nodding quickly as he made an escape for some fresh air, Stolas could hear Moxxie muttering, “Dear Satan, he’s just as bad as Blitzø.” 

—✧✿✧—

iv.

“Don’t you trust me?” Stolas asked with an exaggerated pout. He was not above using whatever charm Blitzø saw in him to get his way this time. 

“Alright, fine,” Blitzø conceded. “But if a single feather on your head gets fucked with, you will be banned from future missions. Got it?” 

“Yes, boss!” 

Blitzø grimaced and looked away. “Don’t fucking start with that, just get and go on your dumb mission with M&M.” 

Proudly striding over to Stolas as the portal opened, Millie heaved her battle axe up and over her shoulder with a grin. “You ready, hun?” 

She had always been kind regardless of Stolas’ unforgivable behavior, though she did take a bit to warm up to him again after he started working at IMP. Apparently Blitzø had been rather torn up over him after that dreadful party — Blitzø, torn up over him! Surely it had to have been some kind of misunderstanding, or the man simply missed the easy lay, or… quite literally anything other than what Mildred had implied. 

But he took her friendship in stride and was grateful that she and her husband had agreed to accompany him on his first mission while Blitzø and Loona dealt with another one. 

Today would be the day Stolas stole Blitzø’s attention for good; he wasn’t taking any intern’s distraction for an answer. All he needed to do was get his shirt (or trousers, he couldn’t afford to be picky) stuck on something at the mission’s location and let it tear to create the devilishly enticing appearance of feathers peeking out through the rips. 

Blitzø had a history of tearing off his clothes, literally ripping them to shreds, so this was guaranteed to remind him of such times. Then they would fall into each other’s arms, embracing as Blitzø apologized for being so distracted lately, and Stolas would say Oh no, dear, it’s not your fault, I was just longing for your heat, and then—

“Oof!” Stolas yelped. “What in Heaven’s name… oh!” 

His sleeve had gotten caught on a rusty old nail along the wall of the house they had portaled to! All according to plan… now he just had to use it to artfully slit his shirt, and maybe even get it caught on another spot as well for maximum effect. The art of eroticism wasn’t easy. 

Just as Stolas moved to inspect his sleeve, a large body slammed into him, pressing him against the wooden wall and his arm directly into the nail. He couldn’t help the primal screech that left his beak at the feeling, a piercing pain that felt nearly as bad as that blessed blade whose memory he could never rid himself of. 

In all honesty, he had never fully sat and analyzed what it meant to lose his power. His everyday use of magic and ability to stand amongst the stars were one thing, but the simple realization that he was no longer impervious to normal hurts and pains was a new one. The fact that something as mundane as a nail in the wall could burn so badly… everyone in his former life would be cackling at him right now, going on and on about the pathetic sight of what he was reduced to. Which, to be fair, was nothing new, but now he truly had nothing up his sleeve. 

Except for the fucking nail, apparently. 

Stolas was jolted out of his head by the burly man pressing the jagged edge of a knife to his chest, just about where his heart was located. A smart move, truthfully, given that his neck was far too high to keep a good grip against. A second thick hand kept his injured arm in place, effectively trapping him. 

“Are all Hell beasts as frail as you?” the man asked. “Can you even understand me? Dunno what kinda fucked up little brain you got up there.” 

“My brain is perfectly normal-sized, thank you very much,” Stolas quipped back. His eyes grew round as he realized what he had just done. He didn’t have the same capacity for any kind of torture anymore, what in Hell was he thinking talking back to someone who could very likely kill him?

The man snarled, knife inching ever closer and threatening to break skin. He had never been so grateful for the way his plumage had thickened, blossoming in the time spent away from Stella and the palace even with lower quality products. He knew it would only prevent the inevitable for so long, though, and the stench of revolting breath invading his senses from below reminded him of it. 

“Think you’re so smart, huh?” the target mocked. Stolas squirmed, though it was no use. “You got height but nothing else, you fucking freaky owl bitch. Say one more thing and you—“

Suddenly, blood spattered across Stolas’ face as the man’s head was split in two, cleanly cutting off his words. The blood was red, he noted, and a bit more watery than demon blood. Fascinating; he didn’t get too many chances to examine human blood up close, aside from the rare boring summoning he had to deal with. 

“There ya go, Stolas!” Millie cheerfully said in all her gory triumph. “You doin’ okay?” 

“Oh, thank you Mildred, dear,” Stolas said with as calm a voice as possible. “I am doing just fine, although I believe I may need some help getting, um, unstuck? It seems I was meant to be a new wall decoration here.” 

Millie swore as she peeked to the side at his arm, black blood steadily dripping down from where he’d been impaled and mixing with the red. 

“Lemme just— here, lean your weight forwards into me while I pull you off, alright, hun? It’s gonna hurt like a hellhog’s horns during mating season, but I’ll make it quick.” 

True to her word on both counts, the ordeal was indeed quick while also practically blinding from the resulting agony as she tugged his arm away from the wall. Stolas couldn’t avoid letting out another squawk, reminded of all the other times he had been faced with pain, both good and bad. It had never felt quite this awful, though, which was a tad disappointing for bedroom (or rather couch-room) reasons. He desperately wanted to believe that context would turn it around. 

Anyhoo, he was free from the wall and the target was dead, through no help of his own. It was quickly dawning on Stolas that he would have to face Blitzø after this mishap, effectively getting himself banned from any future attempts at field work. Not that he thought he would be particularly adept at it, but it did sound enticing to see Blitzø on the job from a front row seat. 

Ah, well, it couldn’t be helped. He had just fucked up his chances at that and at gaining Blitzø’s attention, at least on the positive end of the spectrum. Perhaps he could use the negative end to his advantage in some way instead… but no, no, that sounded awful merely thinking it. He was already taking up space at Blitzø’s apartment and adding another mouth to feed, not to mention another employee to pay — even the blasted unpaid interns were making it easier on the man than Stolas was. 

He would simply have to own up to his failures and hope that Blitzø would be willing to forgive him. 

The portal back to Pride tore reality open in front of him as he found himself growing woozy. He took a deep breath and stepped through. 

“Oh good, you guys are back! Listen, I’ve got a fucking story for—“ 

“Uh, sir, the prince-dude-guy is bleeding.” 

“His name is Stolas, and he’s not— nevermind. Wait, fucking what? Bleeding where?”

Stolas spotted Blitzø across the room from where he’d heard him speaking, seemingly bolted to the floor for a second before zipping over to where the portal had just closed. Aided by Moxxie and Millie in what he was sure was a laughable display given their size difference, Stolas dug his beak into his bottom lip, worried over what Blitzø’s reaction would be. His own personal mission was supposed to be something harmless and silly and desirable, not ending in actual injury. Yet here he was, standing in the middle of the office with blood dripping down his arm on the same side that a certain cowboy had permanently marked. 

He was getting a little tired of being defenseless in the line of fire. 

“Satan fucking damnit, Dempsey, the one time you have anything worth saying and it’s that my bird is hurt? Maybe keep your fucking mouth shut from now on.” 

Dempsey leaned back into their chair and shrugged, completely unbothered. 

Stolas tilted to one side precariously, prompting Blitzø to take over from his colleagues. The imp cautiously led him to the office sofa, making sure he was as comfortable as possible with what Blitzø must have assumed was some kind of dreadful knife or gun wound instead of what it actually was. How pathetic. 

“What the fuck happened up there, Stolas?” Blitzø asked, running a hand up his forehead in stress. “Will you be okay? Fuck, should we get you to a hospital? I dunno how they feel about ex-princes yet, but—“

“Blitzø,” he gently cut in. “I’m fine, I promise. I may require some first aid assistance, but I am not dying.” 

“How would you know?”

“Well, maybe I bloody well know because—“ 

Stolas cut himself off before he could say something rash and unfair. Blitzø had sent his trusted employees to save him and put his daughter first during that past traumatic encounter; that was more than Stolas had ever deserved. He had no right to harp on it now, especially out of misguided irritation. 

“I did fear for my life briefly,” he admitted. “A large, cocky human thought it would be entertaining to jam my arm into the wall, in turn impaling it into a nail.“

“Jesus fuck, Stols.” Blitzø gave a long, low whistle of astonishment. “Also how the fuck did you know he had a big cock?” 

“I— what? No, that is not what I was implying.” Stolas shook his head to clear the ridiculous thought. “I had… perhaps been attempting to rip my clothes with said nail? To— to make you see me, instead of those sodding, lowlife interns.”

There was an unprecedented amount of disgust in his voice, and frankly Stolas didn’t have the energy to determine whether he actually felt that strongly about the students or if it was aimed elsewhere. Yet again, self-awareness was no fun. 

“I’ll have you know I am pursuing a degree in molecular neurobiology,” Jermaine said, holding a pointer finger up. “I am no lowlife.” 

Blitzø just raised his eyebrows as Sasha dragged the offended freshman away, then looked back to Stolas. “Damn, tell ‘em how you really feel, why don’t you.” 

“That was rude, I apologize.” 

Sighing, Blitzø mercifully decided to shelve it for now. “I have so many fucking questions, but first let’s get the fuck home and get this nailing cleaned up.”

Stolas swore he heard him say something nonsensical under his breath like there’s only one nailing I wanna do, but surely it was only the blood loss making him lose his mind. 

—✧✿✧—

By the time they made it to the apartment, Stolas was back to wincing at every minor movement after trying to withhold in front of everyone. He’d had plenty of practice throughout his life, and he would be damned if he wasn’t able to put it to use. 

Loona had left almost immediately after arriving, citing that the two of them clearly needed to fucking talk, whatever she meant by that. She did have a point, but Stolas wasn’t quite sure what conversation could possibly happen that night other than Blitzø berating him for his recklessness. Which he deserved. 

He was led into the bathroom, followed by the grating sound of a chair being dragged in. Even at his most foolish, Blitzø was still thinking of his comfort. 

Slowly, Stolas pulled off his tattered, bloody shirt. Most circumstances would have had him leaking at the idea of stripping in front of Blitzø, just as he had attempted to seduce him only days ago, but the air was too tense for that. 

Procuring an old first aid kit that had certainly seen better days, the adept imp set out to clean and disinfect his nasty wound. The antiseptic stung, but Stolas grit his beak and bore it like any of the rest of their team would. He got himself into his predicament, he could very well deal with the outcome. Plus it wasn’t like this was any worse than it was actually obtaining the injury, and the little horses crudely drawn on the outside of the kit in marker served as a delightful distraction. 

Blitzø was deft with his hands as always; all those countless nights spent bringing Stolas to climax and then providing aftercare were proof enough. But more than that, he was being deliberately careful, dare Stolas say even gentle, in the precision with which he began wrapping the disinfected area in gauze. It was nearly unbearable. 

“Stolas. Stoly Poly. My big bird who’s got the juiciest birdpuss out there. Were you seriously beefing with college freshmen? Those twerps have nothing on you.” 

He wasn’t expecting to be addressed so soon, if he were honest, and the surprise tore through the composure he had tried so hard to upkeep. 

“I— no! I mean, that would depend on what your definition of beefing is, but—“ Stolas stuttered and fumbled his way through an explanation, or at least an attempt at one. “I just… wanted to spend more time with you, is all. I am well aware that was a selfish desire, and you have no obligation at all to fulfill it, so—“

“You could’ve just asked me for more attention, silly bird,” Blitzø said so casually. “You know I woulda given it to you in a heartbeat.” 

Stolas’ feathers puffed up at that, both in joy and indignation. “No, actually, I did not know that! Because we haven’t talked about a single thing! You brought me home and just started taking care of me as if— as if nothing had happened between us. What in Hell was I supposed to do with that?!”

Blitzø drew in on himself, tail sagging. He glanced away as he said, “You saved my fucking life, Stolas. Sometimes it feels like you fucking shouldn’t have, but you did. And I— I care about you too, all the same shit you said when you gave me the crystal and at that fuckass party.” He took a deep, stuttering breath but still winced at the next part, getting it out so fast it was nearly incomprehensible. “To be real honest, I kinda… thought we were already a thing, after Sinsmas?”

Stolas merely stared at him. “The day I lost my daughter for good is when you think we started dating?” He scoffed, at a loss for words. He wasn’t angry with Blitzø, that wasn’t the right term. But confused and bewildered and mildly appalled? Yes, he thought those fit in varying measures. 

Blitzø sputtered. “You kissed me! Beak to snout action! While we fell through the air like a kickass superhero movie scene! What the fuck else was that other than a symbol of, I don’t know, fuckin’ romance? Isn’t that in all your books and shows ‘n’ shit?!” 

Art by Ritsu.

He continued to wrap Stolas’ arm despite the tremor in his hands, and then spoke more calmly. “Shit, I didn’t mean to raise my stupid fucking voice. Just— Stols, I want to be with you. Thought I realized it too fuckin’ late, but then you were alive and, well, not whole, but… you came home with me, and I know things have been rough, but I thought that day was just confir-fuckin-mation that we liked being with each other. I know it was a shitty day for you. Was for me too, seeing you like that.”

Simply breathing for a moment, consciously bringing the air into his lungs and out through his beak while he processed, Stolas furrowed his brow, a mixture of relief and contemplation unfurling within. 

“I know I have been a terrible guest and am now realizing I have not once properly thanked you for your hospitality. Thank you, Blitzø, for saving me and taking care of me all this time,” he ended up saying. “I truly do not deserve your kindness.” 

“No, no you don’t get to fucking pull that and brush it off,” Blitzø declared, though there thankfully wasn’t much heat behind it. “I caused most of the shit that got us here, I won’t let you self— uhh, what’s the fuckin’ word— self-defecate again.” 

Stolas snorted before he could stop himself. “Self-deprecate, darling.” 

“Yeah, that’s the fucker! No more of that shit. Alright?” 

The endeared smile was going to find its way to his beak no matter what; he may as well accept it. “Alright, Blitzø.” He paused to consider how to phrase his next words just right, without causing any major backslides just by being him. “For the record, I do still feel just as strongly for you, perhaps even more so now.” 

Blitzø hummed. “These feelings, are they the gooey squishy kind or the sexy horny kind?” 

His makeshift nurse was dealt a playful shove for that. “What if I said both?” Stolas challenged. “But I do especially mean the ‘gooey squishy’ ones. It may have taken me a while to distinguish the two, but they are very much there. You mean more to me than you could ever know.” 

Silence enveloped the room after that, and it was absolute torture keeping himself from verbalizing all the additional explanations and apologies in his head just to fill the space. But Stolas had learned the hard way that Blitzø needed time to process and mull things over, and that it did not automatically mean he should settle for rejection. Still, his heart thumped heavily, throwing itself against his ribcage with every beat as if it wanted to break free. 

After a painstakingly long moment, Blitzø looked up into his eyes and smiled the most devastatingly adorable smile Stolas had ever seen. “I don’t know how to say shit all pretty like you, but I feel the ‘gooey squishy’ ones too. And the sexy horny ones! But I mean, I did already tell you I thought we’d been dating for fucking months. No better time than to start now, I guess. Whattaya say, birdie?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” he said, slyly referencing a soap opera of his. He would allow himself that one ridiculous little thing and then do his best to focus on the real world, with his real boyfriend. Wait… “Unholy fuck, do I have a boyfriend now?”

Stolas was sure that if he hadn’t developed permanent pupils as a consequence of his magic being subdued, they would be making an appearance and shining bright just as they were right now. The thought of having a boyfriend, and it being Blitzø no less, perked him up and made it feel like thousands of electric tingles had been sent throughout his entire body. 

“You bet you do, Stols. We’re gonna melt the face clean off’a all that big gay repression you got in there,” he said, pressing a pointed finger into chest fluff. 

The wound care probably should have been completed at least ten minutes ago, but all Stolas could bring himself to care about was the fact that the imp in front of him was his now, and not in the entitled way he had tried to flaunt in the past. 

Finally tucking the end of the gauze into itself, Blitzø patted his handiwork ever so lightly. 

“C’mon, pretty bird. Let’s get you cleaned up.” 

Stolas hesitated, dredging up the courage to ask, “Would— would you care to join me? In the tub?”

The hopeful look on Blitzø’s face would reside in his mind for as long as he lived. 

Something about bathing each other felt more intimate than anything else they had ever partaken in, and suddenly, unprompted, the night of that Lucifer-awful trial played through his thoughts again. His memory from that slew of dissociative days may be spotty, but there remained a vague impression of being sponged down with enough care to avoid any rough tugging at his unkempt feathers. 

He hadn’t experienced a bath provided by someone else since he was a fledgling; his butler had been instructed to let him fend for himself once he reached the age of purpose, regardless of the fact that he was still so young and struggled to preen his own back.

Yet here Blitzø was, once again working soap over his body, careful to steer clear of the now plastic-covered gauze. It overwhelmed him in all the best and grandest ways. 

“Y’know, you looked so fucking hot with your face covered in someone else’s blood,” Blitzø said out of nowhere. 

Before letting himself overthink, Stolas grabbed Blitzø under the arms and pulled him into his lap, face to bath-wet face, injury be damned. He knew his stare was too intense for the circumstances, but he paid it no heed as his feelings swelled within, trying to memorize every minute detail of Blitzø’s striking, expressive features. 

He couldn’t help but kiss the man, sparing no thought for the unnatural curve of his spine required to reach down, let alone the odd angle his long legs must have been thrown into while confined within the tub. All he could focus on was Blitzø. Brave, frustrating, incredible Blitzø. 

“Stols, your arm is fucked up,” Blitzø whispered, as if anything louder would shatter the gravity of the moment. 

Stolas huffed against his lips. “I’m not that incapacitated, darling. I’ve got a whole second arm available, in case you haven’t noticed.”

Said arm wriggled its way down to playfully squeeze at Blitzø’s pert ass, causing a full-bodied jolt, then around to the front where it could press a talon against Blitzø’s slit. The whine released at that was music to Stolas’ ears. 

Blitzø instinctually leaned forward, hips grinding as he pressed his body into wet feathers. 

“You feel so good against me, dearest,” Stolas murmured, nipping at a red and white neck. “Let me thank you for all you’ve done. Just focus on me.”  

He slipped a talon into that wet heat to mark his words, Blitzø gasping at the unique sensation provided by being submerged in bathwater. Stolas had been fucked in his own tub at the palace during a past full moon or two, and personally he considered it well worth the mess. (It was twice. He had every night they spent together seared into the delicate workings of his brain.)

Continuing to pump his finger in and out of that deliciously slick hole, Stolas added another and cherished the closeness that he had always craved. What they had during their awful deal was an introduction to it, but this, this was finally a genuine connection where both of them were on the same page. They were no longer struggling to meet in the same chapter, let alone the same book. And Stolas wasn’t so naive anymore to think that it would always be easy, but for once he was looking forward to everything their lives together would hold, painful discussions and all. 

He refused to let himself remain in his head for too long, though. Spurred on by the unguarded noises spilling out of his lover’s mouth, Stolas nudged Blitzø’s cock out of its sheath from inside, moving to grip it now that it was free. The sight and feel of Blitzø’s arousal, hard and thick in his hand, dispelled any remaining doubts that he could no longer draw his beloved’s attention. 

“You know how fucking hard it was not jumping your bones this week?” Blitzø breathed out, as if reading his mind. “Shirtless, mini skirt, ass in the air, you were fucking killing me, Stols.” 

“So my plans were actually working then? Your flustered reactions weren’t a figment of my imagination, hm? If only those pests hadn’t been there…” 

The hand gliding along Blitzø’s cock squeezed on an upstroke and had him gasping, forehead resting on a feathered shoulder. 

“Yeah, your plans fucking worked, you scheming bastard. I was thanking Satan I had an excuse to get out of there each time so I could go beat my meat. New record of how many damn jerk off sessions I’ve had in my office in a single week, by the way. That’s gotta violate a company rule or some shit.”

Hearing that confession urged Stolas on, driven by nothing but pure, unadulterated desire. Pleasuring Blitzø in the way he wanted could wait for another day; they had the future to look forward to, after all. For now, he pushed Blitzø back off his lap to the tub’s bottom, garnering a surprised grunt, and without warning Stolas sunk his cunt right down on that girthy cock. Water sloshed all around them, neither caring where it ended up. 

“Christ on a fucking stick, Stols. Is your arm okay?” 

“I don’t need both arms to ride you, Blitzø.” 

Just to prove his point, Stolas tensed his thighs to raise his hips and slam back down, moaning at the feeling of finally being filled once again. He could cry. Maybe he already was — it was hard to tell with his faceplate still damp, and the consistent slap of his body into the water didn’t help matters in any way. 

Large hands wound their way around his back, pulling him in closer and changing the angle ever so slightly. 

“Fuuuuck, I’ve missed this,” Blitzø groaned. “I’ve missed you, birdie. All of you.” 

Stolas let out a near-manic laugh, not out of true humor but simply at the intensity with which his now-mortal body was overwhelmed by pain and pleasure and unbridled fucking joy. They were actually together now, intimately intertwined both in body and in soul. 

At the next pound of his Blitzø-identified birdpuss onto that glorious cock, taking it up to the hilt, Stolas said, “I love you.” 

All those enormous, irrepressible feelings condensed into a simple common phrase. He had long believed that this moment would be straight out of a romantic drama, consisting of a deluge of words no longer held back by the dam of duty. I love you with a burning passion. I love you more than the stars above and the oceans below. I love you beyond what is capable of demonkind, a love that will persist even when the seven rings collapse. And that was all exceptionally true. 

But simple was quite fitting for them, actually. Blitzø had thought they were already together, never once pushing for a declaration of the love he had (rightfully) assumed was there. He had always been a man of action instead of words, and perhaps it was time for Stolas to truly meet him in the middle. 

Wrapping his good arm around Blitzø’s shoulders, talons digging in painfully tight, Stolas’ back was met with the pleasant sting of Blitzø’s claws in turn. The imp pumped into him sloppily from below as he got closer and closer, evidently impassioned by those three words. 

“I cannot wait to ravish you the way you deserve when I’m healed, darling,” Stolas damn near growled into his ear. “You would take me so well, grinding our messy cunts together until I stuff you with my seed, and then you would fuck yours into me, a binding pact for all eternity.” 

Blitzø came first, thrusts stuttering as he gasped and held on for dear life. Stolas could feel that cock throbbing, cum filling him and warming him from within. It didn’t take long for him to follow; reaching his release with a shriek, he dug his beak into Blitzø’s shoulder harder than intended, clearly having an impact if the additional twitching was any indication. 

“Holy shit, what the fuck,” Blitzø panted and pulled Stolas in to lean on him, grinning out of what seemed to be sheer relief. “I love you too, Stolas,” he added, quieter. “Thank fuck we’re in water, no chance of the world going up in flames now that I’ve said it out loud.”

The two of them glanced at their surroundings for what was most certainly the first time since they’d gotten into the tub. “Well, shit. Guess we’re in cum-water, because most of the real water is on the floor now. Jizz is probably fire-proof, too, right?” 

Stolas erupted into giggles, ever the perfect audience for Blitzø’s vulgar jokes. 

“I’m sure it is, darling,” he said. “I’m sure it is.” 

—✧✿✧—

If, after that day, the interns at IMP suddenly started receiving mean glares from a certain secretary followed by some very aggressive PDA with their boss every time they so much as existed within a twenty foot radius of the pair, well, they wouldn’t be the ones to say anything. They’d leave that to Moxxie.