i.
Mornings were beginning to weigh on Stolas. They always had, to be clear, but differently than the way they had in the past.
“Howdy there, Stolas!” Blitzø exclaimed, chipper as ever. “What’re you having for breakfast? Want me to make anything?”
He rested against the counter, gazing up at Stolas with a wide grin and bright eyes. His tail was relaxed, oscillating unhurriedly in the late morning light. Stolas felt like he would never get used to that look aimed towards him, but it was also getting to be… a lot.
“I am just having cereal,” he replied flatly. “I’ll be sure to restock it the next time I attempt a grocery store visit.”
“Nice choice, buddy! Here, let me pour it for you.”
Stolas paused and turned to look at the imp with an inscrutable expression. “Blitzø, I don’t need your help. I may be… challenged when it comes to certain life skills, but I assure you I know how to put together a bowl of cereal.”
Still, despite his protests, Blitzø took the box and poured some Funky Ovals into his bowl. Irritatingly, it was the perfect amount.
“There ya go! Want me to get the milk?”
Taking advantage of his superior height, Stolas reached over him to the fridge before Blitzø could even move, grabbing the milk to add it in himself. The good job! he got from Blitzø pissed him off a little more than it maybe should have; he was trying not to assume the worst anymore, but it was a struggle when every recent interaction felt so condescending. He’d lived on cereal for years! Maybe he couldn’t cook eggs without setting the kitchen on fire, but he could do that at the very least!
ii.
A week later, Stolas was preparing to begin the preening process. It didn’t take as long when he wasn’t putting in much effort, but he had started trying a little harder again lately, so it would be a bit of a lengthy endeavor. He kept the bathroom door open just in case Blitzø or Loona needed a turn in there, as he was more than willing to step out for a moment. What he didn’t want, however…
“Heeeey Stolas,” Blitzø greeted cheerfully, leaning against the door frame with a casual arm up. “You need any help there? I could stand on the sink and get your back or something.”
The man in question lowered his head to compose himself for a second, then took a breath and said, “Thank you for the offer, but I shall be fine.”
Fully entering the bathroom now, Blitzø sidled up to him and reached for the bottle of preening oil. “C’mon, let me help. It’ll be fun! I can learn!”
Stolas felt his eye twitch but kept a smile on his face as he grit his beak. “I think I know how to preen my own feathers, Blitzø. I am not a nestling.”
“What? No, no, I just want to, y’know, be useful!” Blitzø said. “I mean— helpful!”
“Please just get out,” Stolas said with a clenched jaw. His hands were planted firmly on the edges of the sink, back hunched over as he tried to contain his irritation, however irrational it may be.
He sincerely did not want to take anything out on Blitzø, but the forced proximity that came with living together in such a small space had brought on certain difficulties. Blitzø trying to insert himself in every little moment of the day was one such difficulty.
“Ooookay, I don’t want to stress the rest of your feathers off, birdie,” Blitzø reluctantly acquiesced. “But if you need me, I’ll be right in there, yeah?”
Voice painfully high in false friendliness, Stolas gave a yes, Blitzø and maintained the tight smile he used with pushy clients until the imp returned to the couch. He so dearly wished his medication would kick in already; he doubted it was normal to feel this irritable all the time. Or was this really how he felt about Blitzø now that he’d learned his everyday habits? Had he been right about being a fool all along, caught up in absurd fantasies over a made-up idea of a person?
iii.
It was Stolas’ turn to lug the laundry over to the next-door laundromat and throw it in the machines. He had only managed to figure it out after a few admittedly disastrous attempts, but he felt more confident in his laundering abilities now. Oh dear, perhaps he shouldn’t say it like that… Blitzø would certainly get a kick out of it, though. Maybe he should hold on to that one to see if it’d make him laugh that full-bodied cackle he so adored.
Gathering the last few articles of dirty clothing he could find, Stolas’ mood took a turn instantly at the sound of hoofsteps behind him. He already knew where this was going before Blitzø even opened his mouth.
“You want a laundry buddy, Stols?” he asked, hip cocked in unbothered liveliness like always. “I got nothing to do today, so it’d be nice to bond over some washers and dryers and shit. Maybe make up stories about the other fuckheads in there?”
“I can go on my own! Would you leave me alone for two fucking seconds!” Stolas shouted, grasping at his head feathers.
Noticeably drooping in posture, Blitzø gave a sad chuckle, tail curling around his legs. “Yep, got it. I’ll just— I’ll go over there to the bathroom and leave you be.”
Loud, dramatic sobbing could be heard as soon as Blitzø was out of sight, and Stolas was instantly hit with a pang of regret at his outburst. He waffled for a moment on whether to acknowledge Blitzø or let him cry it out and apologize later, idly picking at his arm feathers as if it would help him decide. Figuring it might lead to less embarrassment for both of them, he grabbed the linen bags and headed down to the laundromat.
Stolas fucked up the laundry that day.
iv.
Loona crept out of her room at the sound of the high-pitched, manic muttering that was coming from the other side of her door.
“He doesn’t think I can do anything myself!” Stolas vented to himself, pacing the small living space of the apartment as he gestured theatrically with his hands. “Am I truly so pitiful in his eyes? What have I done to deserve this madness?”
“He just wants to take care of you, dude,” Loona interjected, firmly but gently.
“But he’s constantly around and always doing things for me! I feel like I’m going to trip over him if I turn the wrong way one day— actually, no, I have tripped over him!”
Loona sighed. “Look, do you love him?”
Stolas stopped his pacing and gaped at her, eyes wide and body visibly tense.
Before he could find the words to speak, Loona continued, “Because if you do, and I sure hope you do after all this bullshit, that’s what it’s like being cared about by Blitzø. He’s suffocating, and overbearing, and half the time I still want to punt him across a field, but… he loves me. For some stupid fucking reason he chose to adopt me and give me a home, and I could never repay him for that. I think I can put up with some affection if it makes him happy. Can you? Or is this not going to work out?”
Dropping heavily to the couch, shoulders slumped, Stolas looked lost in thought at her question.
“That’s truly how he expresses… love?” he asked tentatively. “It’s not just him treating me like some Satan forsaken charity case?”
“Yeah, man,” Loona said, eyebrow quirked. “He’s literally been pining over you for months, he’s just… not good at showing it most of the time. But I guess having a reason to take care of you flipped a switch in him.”
“Months?” Stolas squawked. “What in heaven’s name… if only he could have been truer with his feelings sooner. No, that’s not fair, I have no place to speak about being true to oneself within a reasonable period of time.” He let out a self-deprecating laugh.
“You really had no idea?” Loona asked in disbelief. “I still don’t know what the fuck happened at Ozzie’s, but he got drunk as fuck and cried himself to sleep that night. Then there was that fucking party… you’re on thin ice for that one, by the way.”
“I deserve that,” he said weakly. “But all the way back to Ozzie’s, really? I had even invited him in to talk that night, and he made it all about sex.”
“Gross, I don’t want to hear what you two used to get up to. But what did you expect? Every time I saw you, you were being condescending as shit, pinching his cheeks, scolding him like he was a servant... What about any of that screamed I love you? As far as we knew, it was just a monthly transaction for the book, and we were always worried he’d fuck it up. Guess we have both of you to blame for that fuck up now, though.”
Having a rundown of his egregious mistakes was not what Stolas particularly wanted at that moment, but something about the way Loona spoke kept him from spiraling too far. She was often blunt with her words, but lately when she talked with him there was a softness there, her tone not cutting quite as sharply.
“I— I do admit to fucking it up, as you put it,” he said, hands clasped together in his lap in remorse. “I did try to invite him out and give him a choice not to engage in the… more sordid part of our deal, but have since realized that it was not perceived that way, and for that I am deeply sorry, Loona.”
The hellhound snorted. “It’s cool. I mean, not that it happened, but you literally thought you were gonna die for him at the trial. A sacrifice like that, the same one that Blitzø was going to take for us… that’s something you can’t fake. And heaven knows Blitzø’s Grade A assholism played a part in whatever went wrong between you two. I could probably count on one hand the amount of times I’d seen him spill his guts before this shit went down, and now he’s out here practically overflowing with heart eyes for you. Just accept it, birdman. He’s got it bad, so I hope you still do too.”
“Oh, I do,” Stolas confessed. “I’m afraid I am still terribly, irrevocably in love with your father.”
“Good.” She nudged him with a shoulder and grabbed the TV remote, smiling softly as she moved. “Now scooch over so we can binge-watch some dumb fucking soap opera until the dumbass gets home.”
Stolas felt warm at the gruff affection. He had gathered that it meant a lot for Loona to willingly share her space, and he wouldn’t take it for granted. Nor would he take Blitzø’s apparent care for granted either. Not for a second longer.