Sinsmas lights, festive horse plushies, and various ornaments covered the entire apartment. Stolas privately thought it was a bit much — Blitzø had even stuck a bow on the book that was currently in his hand — but he wasn’t going to be the one to put a damper on Blitzø’s holiday spirit. He assumed it was similar the previous year, though he was far too busy dissociating to really take any of it in at the time.
At the very least, he found it incredibly endearing to see his boyfriend go all out for the holidays. Their lives still weren’t easy by any means, but there was actual happiness in them a lot of the time now. Stolas could lounge on the couch and read while Blitzø watched television or caught up with Fizzarolli on the phone, and they could simply enjoy each other’s presence without the pretense of a transaction or the grief of losing a loved one hanging over them. It was a work in progress, but one that felt like it was nearing perfection more every day.
All that to say— Blitzø was extremely lovable, but at the moment he also had that look on his face that said he was about to do something idiotic. Which, to be fair, was pretty often. But with how wound up he was from all the manic decorating, Stolas was already preparing to deal with whatever insane plan he was bound to concoct.
“Stols,” Blitzø called. “I can’t find the fucking star to put on top of the tree.”
Letting out a sigh to keep his response measured, Stolas said, “That’s okay, dear, we don’t need a star.”
“Oh, no, I just meant I had an even better idea for it,” he claimed in that jaunty, confident tone he used for all his batshittery.
Stolas looked up from his book, glasses low on his beak, unimpressed as Blitzø walked into view with a block of cheese in one hand and a giant knife in the other.
“Darling, what exactly do you plan to accomplish with that?”
He dug out a different, smaller piece of cheese from his pocket and showed it off with an infectious grin; he had crudely carved it into a star, evidently practicing for the larger block. Stolas tried to hold back his giggles, he truly did, but Blitzø would always be able to make him crack. The imp may not be a clown anymore, but his sense of humor was Stolas’ personal show all on its own.
“How—“ he wheezed, “how do you expect to get it to stay on the tree?”
“I don’t fuckin’ know, magic maybe,” Blitzø joked.
Stolas rolled his eyes and got up to find some kind of string that would work to tie it in place. The loss of his magic still stung sometimes, but it was less of a sore spot than it once had been. His boyfriend had taken up making well-intentioned jokes about it that, while at first fell flat, eventually grew to help Stolas cope with his new reality. Perhaps there was merit to the concept of laughing at one’s own pain.
Now armed with thin rope that he didn’t particularly want to know the origin of, Stolas made his way over to the Sinsmas tree, watching as Blitzø carefully carved out the five points of the star on his selected piece of cheese. The imp’s tongue poked out and his tail swayed leisurely, focused entirely on the task at hand.
Stolas couldn’t help sneaking a few photos, both for himself and to send to their girls. Maybe he’d even be a tad bit mischievous and send them in the group chat, just for fun. Blitzø was usually too unbothered to ever feel self-conscious about silly photos, but Stolas adored seeing Loona and Via team up to tease him regardless. While they visited as often as they could, it was easy enough to make up for any missed time through messages and calls.
Typing away on his phone, Stolas didn’t notice Blitzø jumping up to climb him like a cat until it was already happening. He stuck his cheese star in Stolas’ face from where he was curled around the bird’s body, enthusiastic smile in place with a little tada.
It was truly rather charming, the crafty little cheese star. He’d even carved a pentagram into its center. He said as much to Blitzø, who somehow beamed even brighter at the compliment. Stolas felt himself melt, still so unused to this level of unbridled joy that every time it happened he became overwhelmed with emotion.
The apartment was surely going to smell of cheese for days to come once they managed to secure it atop the tree, but frankly that wasn’t Stolas’ problem. His diminished sense of smell was the perfect alibi; he’d let their daughters deal with their dad’s decoration choices whenever they visited next and claim he had forgotten about a certain cheese-star tree topper.
He knew he’d just let Blitzø keep it up as long as he pleased, anyway.