Work Text:
It was not a great plan. But as an entrepreneur, Blitzo couldn't let himself get bogged down in whether or not trying to seduce a demon prince to steal his magic book was a suicidally terrible idea. Questioning the wisdom of trying to pull the old love 'em and loot 'em was like asking if he could even use that kind of magic without being reduced to some existential nightmare state of unending pain. Only one way to find out! Could he even do any kind of magic other than some stupid sleight of hand he'd mostly forgotten and had never been very good at? Probably?
That was something he could figure out if he actually managed to fuck Prince Stolas so hard he lost track of his valuables.
Blitzo hadn't been able to find any real dirt on him, or at least nothing that would indicate he had some secret, scandalous interest in imp cock. Blitzo vaguely remembered him from Loo Loo Land, looming over the imps who couldn't afford anything better and looking more giddily excited than the poor kid he dragged around Hell's shittiest theme park. Weird, kind of pathetic, but not much to go on in terms of schemes (except if Plan Anal didn't work out, Plan B might involve stealing a Loo Loo costume).
But of all Blitzo's skills, fucking seemed to be the best choice. No point in shooting him unless he wanted to find out if Prince Stolas really could kill him with his brain or if he'd prefer to just rip him apart with his beak and talons. Juggling might have worked, but he didn't have a second person to grab the book while the stupid owl was distracted.
It turned out seduction worked better than he thought it would. It was working well enough that he almost wondered if he should skip the book and set up shop back in the Lust Ring (except, of course, there were too many people there who hated his fucking guts).
He'd have expected the prince to recoil when he'd finally lunged in to kiss him, but Prince Stolas didn't even make a token effort to push him away. The demon prince pulled him closer, seizing Blitzo with his talons and only taking his hands away to manuever around Blitzo's spikes. Prince Stolas kissed him with an intensity that made Blitzo regret that this was only going to be one time, and it gave him the audacity to take one of the prince's hands and move it to the already throbbing bulge in his pants.
"You want this, your highness?" Blitzo asked, smiling at him in a way that had made succubi blush.
"Yes," said Prince Stolas. "But...um. If we are going to do this..."
"We can do anything you want," Blitzo said. "My dark lord."
"Call me Stolas."
Blitzo floundered. Outside of his giggling, moronic Loo Loo Land incarnation, Stolas was said to be cold and imperious--or at least the kind of people Blitzo was able to talk to said that. Blitzo had assumed that eating his ass was going to require a lot of kissing his ass and just really pouring on the kind of obsequiousness the Sins and Overlords and Goetia expected from a humble imp.
"Whatever you want," he said, trying to get back into the "you're going to enjoy sex with me so much that you won't notice your magic book and maybe some of the silverware" are gone groove.
"Just Stolas then, please," the prince said, as casually as he'd order dinner. As if he had no idea that someone like Blitzo wasn't supposed to be on a first name basis with someone like him (although, to be fair, someone like Blitzo wasn't supposed to be there at all, scaling one of the Ars Goetia to put his tongue in his mouth and grind against his chest).
Degradation kink probably Blitzo decided and kissed him again, eagerly and hungrily because fuck, he could appreciate that. He could work with that.
He kissed his way down Stolas' neck and bit his shoulder--lightly and then harder once he noticed the reaction lightly had gotten him. He ran his fingers up the back of the prince's crest and pulled just to see what would happen and grinned when he saw Stolas' eyes widen. This was definitely a great plan, and there was no way he was going to regret this (assuming Stolas didn't find him and kill him once he noticed the grimoire was missing).
***
The plan had worked a little too well.
"Stolas," Blitzo said, trying to derail the erotic monologue he was being subjected to and wondering what would happen if he blocked Stolas' number. "Stolas." He grimaced as he noticed the looks Millie and Moxxie were exchanging. At least dear, sweet Loona was steadfastly scrolling through her phone, ignoring the current Stolas-induced clusterfuck with perfect daughterly devotion. It would have been enough to bring a tear to Blitzo's eye if he hadn't lost all capacity for emotion three minutes into Stolas' call.
"Yes, Blitzy?"
"I am in a very important work meeting," said Blitzo. He covered the receiver with his hand and hissed, "Sound like we're doing something important!"
"With all due respect, sir--"
"I know what that means now, Moxxie! So you can go per my previous email yourself!"
"Ooo, an important meeting," said Stolas. "That makes it more exciting, doesn't it?"
"It fucking doesn't."
"Perhaps I should schedule a private consultation..."
"No."
"But, Blitzy, I'm desperately in need of your special talents...and by special talents I mean--"
"You mean my huge dick and my amazing tongue, I know," said Blitzo. "Everybody knows."
"Can we have one meeting where we don't talk about your genitalia?" asked Moxxie.
"Moxxie, shut up, I am on the phone."
"Don't sell those clever little fingers of yours short, Blitzy."
"What do you want, Stolas?"
"I want to ride your--"
"I mean why are you fucking calling me," Blitzo said before he could be subjected to another shopping list of Stolas' disgusting urges.
"Just a little reminder that it's nearly time for our monthly rendezvous, Blitzy," said Stolas. "Since you're such an adorable little workaholic, I think you should give me a tantalizing business presentation. I find bar graphs are so much more enitcing than pie charts. Something about the--"
"Ok, fine, never call me again," said Blitzo. He hung up before he had to find out any more of Stolas' thoughts on anything.
Fuck, he was going to lose an entire day making sexy graphs. At least he could make the bar graphs look like middle fingers to show Stolas that this was complete and utter bullshit he shouldn't have to be doing. And one of those ones with the arrows except maybe make the arrows look like dicks?
Millie grinned at him. "Sooooo..."
"That was a business call," said Blitzo. And Stolas probably wanted him to wear some stupid outfit again. Because of course the actual clothes he wore every day for work would probably not be what Stolas had in mind for "sexy business presentation."
wht whar 4 sexi bizns? he texted and put his phone facedown on the table because he did not want to know how long the fucking typing dots were going for. He already knew he was going to get back more paragraphs than any sane demon would send in a text. Or another 16 minute voicemail like the one he kept meaning to delete (Eventually. Just as soon as he got bored with grudgingly jerking off to it).
"This is just part of the cost of doing business, like having a sweet van or paying the rent," Blitzo continued.
"Did you pay the rent, sir?" asked Moxxie.
"No," said Blitzo. "Because I spent all our money on super important business things." Based on the way Moxxie glared at him, Blitzo was going to need to get a lock for his desk's horse drawer before Moxxie started asking any inconvenient questions. "Also I'm going to need someone to live in the office long enough that we get squatter's rights. Millie, it's going to have to be you because property management is still very afraid of you."
"Only on two conditions," said Millie. "I get to kill anybody who tries to change the locks."
"Done," said Blitzo.
"And Moxxie gets to live in the office too."
"Millie, don't encourage this," said Moxxie.
"But it'll be fun," said Millie. "Just the two of us...maybe some intruders to stab..."
"Absolutely not, not if you're going to enjoy it," said Blitzo.
Moxxie sighed. "Sir, have you considered that most of your anger issues are a result of--"
"You know I fucking haven't!" Blitzo stood up. "One of you shitlickers needs to be useful and get us some clients because I've got to spend the next fucking day making erotic Exhell spreadsheets." He bit his lip to keep from smiling at how delighted Stolas was going to be when he heard whatever stupid sex joke Blitzo was going to make out of "spreadsheets" (not that Blitzo cared, but if he was going to have sex in exchange for goods and/or services, he was going to do a good job, damn it). "And I need to find..." He looked at his phone. "One of those shirts that's mostly blue but has those white cuffs and..."
Blitzo scowled and texted back no susspendars and then NO when he received a nightmarish combination of pleading eyes, water drops, and eggplant emojis.
"Just the cost of doing business," said Millie and both M and Ms giggled like this was funny.
"Shut up," said Blitzo. Something else occurred to him and he texted u cliant?
Naughty summer intern? Stolas answered, followed by several terrifying combinations of hand gesture emojis. Heart hands horn hands seemed especially ominous.
ur a shit intern if i hve to make the presuntashun
"Purely business texts," said Moxxie.
"Moxxie, the only reason I'm not making you do this shit work is because Stolas would be horribly offended by the size of your baby dick," Blitzo said. call after wurk talkk detales
Looking forward to it, Blitzyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy
Blitzo counted the y's. "Loona, sweetie, I'm going to be home late tomorrow. Don't wait up."
"Gross, I don't care," said Loona. "And I wouldn't."
"See, M and M, Loona appreciates my commitment to this business."
Loona snarled and muttered something that almost sounded like "Commitment to sucking Goetia dick," but his precious Loony Toony wouldn't have said something like that (even if Millie and Moxxie started tittering again). And Blitzo was sure that in describing how hard he worked to get them the grimoire that he must have mentioned Stolas' whole freaky one hole, dickless(?) downstairs deal.
***
Blitzo rolled onto the side of the bed that Stolas wasn't on (not his side because Blitzo did not have a side of the bed because Blitzo was only there because it was a full moon and he needed the fucking book) and lit a cigarette. He hadn't dared the first couple of times. The first time he'd gone to bed with Stolas he'd just wanted to grab the grimoire and get the heaven out of the there. And then once "one time" had turned into an ongoing deal, he'd been almost afraid to. And then he'd been pissed off that he felt like he had to tiptoe around Stolas, and he was even more pissed off because, well, he probably should. Not that he did.
But he wanted a cigarette after obligatory transactional fucking, so he lit one and took a long, satisfying drag. He wanted to look at Stolas because fuck him and his rules and his high and mighty attitude, but even Blitzo could only be so stupid, so he looked at the doors to the balcony, wondering if he was about to be shoved through them for acting like the low class carnie he really was.
Stolas plucked the cigarette from between his fingers and brought it to his beak. Blitzo might have just happened to have turned to look at him, but he didn't notice the lazily casual way Stolas inhaled and he didn't make any comparisons between this and anything else Stolas might have had in his mouth in the past hour. Stolas exhaled a cloud of smoke up towards the ceiling, and he smiled as he held the cigarette back out to Blitzo.
Their claws lightly brushed against each other as Blitzo took it back. Which meant exactly jack and shit given the assorted parts and holes that came into contact with each other as part of this monthly obligation. It still made Blitzo feel like he needed to leave. Immediately.
"See you next month, I guess," said Blitzo.
"You're not leaving already?" asked Stolas, somehow managing to pout despite not having the right kind of mouth for it. But as Blitzo was unfortunately very well aware, Stolas was capable doing many impossible things with that weird mouth of his.
"We're done, aren't we? You can't tell me that wasn't worth keeping your book for another month."
"Oh, I'm perfectly satisfied with this month's trade for my grimoire," said Stolas. As long as he was determined to use the fancy fucking name for his stupid magic book, Blitzo was determined not to just to annoy him. Which was childish and stupid, but so was Blitzo. "But you know I can't get enough of you, my little imp..."
"Well, tough shit," said Blitzo, making sure to quickly move out of reach. Stolas was surprisingly persuasive for someone so irritating, and during previous full moons Blitzo had ended up staying longer than he'd wanted to just because of a hand on his thigh or an arm sliding around him (and when that hand or arm was accompanied by Stolas cooing, "Just once more, please, Blitz-zeee," he really couldn't tell if he was just doing it to keep the horny bird happy).
"If only the full moon came more often," Stolas sighed as Blitzo got dressed.
"You'd better not be able to do that," said Blitzo. "That's...you can't actually do that, can you?"
The demon prince laughed. "Oh, Blitzy, don't you think I'd have you here every night if I could?"
"You'd like that, wouldn't you, you sick fuck?" He watched one of Stolas' talons trace circles on the sheets in the same absentminded motion he'd used on various regions of Blitzo.
"Yes, I believe I just said I'd like that very much." Stolas took the book from his bedside table and shrugged on his robe. His attention seemed to mostly be on the grimoire even after he followed Blitzo across the room and towards the balcony.
"You can't keep me here."
"I know." The book glowed in Stolas' hands as he did something with it that hopefully didn't involve sexual brainwashing or moon phase fuckery. "If I kept you here, who would kill all the nasty humans?"
"Hey, Millie is more than capable of taking over if you locked me up in your sex closet," said Blitzo. "Which you are not allowed to do!"
"My sex closet?" Stolas closed the book and surveyed the room. "Now, would that be a closet for having sex or for storing various implements? I suppose we could do with either..."
"Yeah, well, you're going to have to figure it out on your own," said Blitzo as he pushed open the balcony doors. Something about "we" set his teeth on edge. "I mean, obviously you need to come up with a decent storage system for all your freaky shit. But that's your fucking problem, Stolas! I will fuck you based on the lunar calendar, but I will not help you sort your fucking dildos!"
"By length, do you think?"
"Oh my Satan...yes! Obviously! Length, then girth! Or whatever because I am not wasting my precious time with this shit. And you know, no hard feelings if you forget my phone number in the next 28 days."
"Come now, Blitzy," Stolas said with slightly different inflection than he'd used earlier that night. "I would never neglect my impish little plaything like that."
Blitzo swatted his hand away before Stolas could pinch his cheek in the way he absolutely hated. "Oh, didn't I tell you? My biggest kink is being completely ignored for months at a time."
"Is it?" Stolas tilted his chin up with one careful talon and smiled in a way that reminded Blitzo that, when you really got to know him (which Blitzo hadn't because this wasn't like that), the prince wasn't a completely braindead himbo all of the time. "I don't think you'd like that at all, Blitzy."
"I..." Blitzo looked up into Stolas' eyes. He could never see his reflection in any of them--just whatever ancient evil power was compressed into Stolas' tall, lean body. Sometimes he wasn't sure if Stolas was more observant than he realized or if the Goetia prince was able to see right through him. Blitzo still had no idea what the extent of Stolas' powers were--despite having likely seen it several times, Blitzo still didn't understand what Stolas actually used the grimoire to do every full moon (just as he was too stupid to figure out how to do anything with it other than getting to the living world).
Stolas bent down, almost folding in half, and kissed him, first on the mouth and then on his forehead, right on his birthmark in a way that was as worrying as the way he kept forgetting what Stolas was. "Until next time then, Blitzy," he said as he pressed the book into Blitzo's hands.
***
Stolas held out one of the largest wads of cash Blitzo had ever seen. "I told you, I'm not a day hooker," said Blitzo.
"For bodyguard services," said Stolas. "As we discussed?"
"Oh," said Blitzo. Seeing Fizzarolli's singing sexbot again had made him forget that he'd been dragged back to Loo Loo Land for an actual job. Sort of.
He also realized that he'd somehow made it through the entire miserable day with all of his holes unfiddled.
"I do wish you hadn't destroyed that charming little animatronic though," said Stolas.
"Dad, I always hated that thing," said Octavia.
"Oh?" Stolas blinked, then counted out a few more bills and stuffed them into Blitzo's pocket. "Excellent work destroying that delightful singing jester then."
"Yeah, well, I told you, we're assassins," said Blitzo. "Not bodyguards. So we're not doing this again."
"But it suits you so well, Blitzy..."
"Dad," Octavia said, extending the word into a number of syllables only an exasperated teenager could be capable of.
"Yes, of course, Via. Bye-bye, Blitzy!"
"Fuck off, Stolas," said Blitzo. It still didn't stop Stolas from giving him an insufferable little wave as he left. He turned to Team M and M. Moxxie looked irritated for some reason; Millie was clutching some stuffed...thing like she'd killed a man for it (knowing Millie, it could have been an entire family). "So, I just got an assload of cash for this bullshit. Who wants to go fucking spend it?"
***
The agreement was fine--on the list of shitty things Blitzo had done for his own material gain, whoring himself out to Hell's horniest owl probably wouldn't even make the top ten. It might not even make the list since whoring himself out probably wasn't going to ruin anyone else's life (assuming he could come up with some other deal that would let him keep the book once the seedy thrill of imp-fucking stopped being exciting enough for Stolas).
And it was fine that he knew Stolas' eyes flared like dying suns when he came so hard he squawked. It was fine that Blitzo knew exactly how to make him chirp, hoot, and squawk because that was just part of ensuring that the agreement remained sufficiently amusing for Stolas. And it was probably okay that when Stolas' talons really dug into Blitzo's hips as he pulled him in closer, begging to be fucked harder (please, Blitzy), it made Blitzo cum so hard he saw stars. That was...
At least having to fuck Stolas every month wasn't a completely miserable experience.
It was slightly concerning that Stolas could call him by that stupid nickname in this perfectly urgent and pleading tone that made his dick ache (in a completely transactional, they both knew what this was kind of way). It was not fine that sometimes, afterwards, Stolas would kiss him softly and Blitzo would let him. These were dangerously gentle kisses with none of the hunger that started the night--and it was absolutely not fine that Blitzo wasn't really enduring Stolas' endless hunger but starting to feel it himself.
Except that was probably...fine adjacent? Blitzo wasn't a fucking eunuch, and there were only so many disgusting scenarios he could have cooed in his ear before he'd start getting a semi every time his phone rang during a waxing gibbous. It was probably not the worst that he maybe didn't not want to fuck Stolas. Not that he would ever actually say that, and he was prepared to fervently deny it if anyone asked, especially if it was Stolas asking. But not if Stolas were to ask while they were fucking because that would just be rude. But definitely after he would make sure to tell Stolas that he'd been lying when he'd said he loved pounding that weird all-in-one bird hole until Stolas jizzed on his huge cock. If he remembered. Which he usually didn't. He'd tell him eventually. And Stolas had to understand that Blitzo just said things like "I've been waiting all day to eat that sweet bird puss" and "I want to fuck you so hard it shatters your stupid hollow bones" out of politeness. Just like he only devoured bird puss, using every possible stretch and slurp of his forked tongue until Stolas was incoherent, because that was just what you did. It wasn't like he regularly stroked himself while doing it--that only happened when he told Stolas to tell him to do it and Stolas saying, "You love this, don't you, Blitzy? Will you cum for me, Blitzy?" in a trembling voice was just background noise.
That was obviously just sex.
What was absolutely the complete opposite of fine was that at some point he'd stopped getting out of bed and pulling on his clothes immediately afterward and then at some point after that he'd stopped sneaking out as soon as Stolas was asleep. He told himself it was because he was tired and because Stolas had pillows worth more than Blitzo's fucking apartment, so why bother getting up and slinking back to his own shitty (empty) bed? But at some point he'd gotten comfortable falling asleep next to Stolas--increasingly closer and closer to Stolas until he was regularly dozing off in his arms--and that should have made him very uncomfortable.
"It's a sugar moon tonight," said Stolas.
"So fucking what?" said Blitzo, holding out the cigarette. At some point, Stolas had stopped taking it from between his fingers and Blitzo had started offering it instead. And it didn't mean anything that they'd silently agreed that this would happen at just past the halway point. Because it wasn't like Blitzo was so pathetic as to know exactly how much of a cigarette Stolas wanted after sex (and even if he did, that was just called pleasing the fucking client).
"Considered an auspicious time to begin spring plantings," said Stolas. "Or at least to begin thinking about it." He made a lazy gesture with his other hand, and the moon and stars of the living world appeared over their heads. "The moon is also in Libra, the sign of balance and compromise."
Blitz stared at the glittering stars and the soft white glow of the moon. He almost never bothered to look at the sky when he went to the living world and when he did, it always looked more distant that it did through Stolas' portal. Here it seemed like Stolas could just reach up with one of his freakishly long arms and pluck the stars out of the sky.
"You don't actually believe in that shit, do you?" Blitzo asked because if he didn't ruin the moment, he might actually enjoy it.
Stolas just smiled quietly, still looking into the portal. That might have been worse than if he'd been annoyed or angry--it might mean Blitzo wasn't even significant enough to be frustrating.
"Always so cynical, Blitzy," he said. "Libra is the Ruler of the Zodiac's 7th House, the House of relationships." He reached towards the portal, and a set of stars brightened. "You could say this is a full moon for finding balance between...being content with yourself and being content with others. If you believe in that shit, of course."
Blitzo looked at his hands. At some point he'd stopped bothering to keep his gloves on when he was with Stolas. It had just started to seem stupid when Stolas had seen the rest of him from every possible angle (and a few implausible ones).
People rarely said anything about his face. Even if most imps were exactly that rude, Blitzo had cultivated the kind of "I will bite your fucking dick off" energy that kept them from asking. Nobody really even noticed his tail or thought anything about his arms and hands when that and his face were all they could see--shit happened, and Blitzo was hardly the only imp with some damage here and there. But when somebody saw all of it for the first time--his face, his chest, his back, his hands--they always said something and eventually, they always fucking asked. Maybe not while they were trying to fuck because one good look at Blitzo's scars made it pretty clear that the explanation was going to be a total boner killer/clit wilter.
But they always asked, eventually, and he always just gave some vague not-really-an-answer. It was an accident. It was a long time ago. Just one of those things. Shit happens. I don't even think about it anymore.
Even before he realized he was going to ruin every relationship he was ever in, Blitzo knew it was better not to tell anyone what had actually happened (because it sure as shit was better to try to forget about it as much as possible). Nobody knew who hadn't been there, and it wasn't like he was still on speaking terms with any of them.
Stolas hadn't asked. Blitzo decided he didn't know enough about imps to know what he was seeing, and Blitzo had also decided he wasn't going to be the one to tell him. He didn't want to hear that Stolas just thought he was covered in cute little spots (which was probably exactly what fucking Stolas thought) because he knew what Stolas would say when he finally hated him so much he didn't even want to even fuck him anymore. "Who cares?" Verosika had told him back when she still loved him. "You're a freak," she'd told him once she didn't.
"Blitzy?"
"That's fucking stupid, Stolas," said Blitzo. He wasn't sure if they were still talking about astrology, but the statement worked for most of the things Stolas talked about.
"We don't need Libra's cursings anyway, do we, Blitzy?"
Blitzo didn't say anything because that was clearly a trap, but he didn't object when Stolas put his head on his chest. He absently ran his fingers through Stolas' plumage in a completely "sex for book" kind of way, careful to avoid his second set of eyes. "I'm balanced as shit," he said. Which was technically true because he hated himself and nobody else could fucking stand him either.
"Mmm, I'm too tired to make any remarks about that deliciously disproportionate dick of yours. Do you want me to close the portal?"
"Whatever. I don't care," Blitzo said because he wanted to keep looking through it but sure as shit wasn't going to admit it.
"Wake me if anything cataclysmic or portentious seems to be happening."
"Yeah, fine." Blitzo didn't want to admit that he didn't actually know what that meant either.
He didn't know what it meant that he was stupid enough to actually feel happy as he looked at the moon and stroked Stolas' feathers and listened to Stolas softly hoot in his sleep (because he tended to snore when Blitzo had really worn him out and when he contorted himself to fit in Blitzo's arms). But it couldn't mean anything good.
***
"I am not catching feelings," Blitzo announced as soon as he walked in the office, an hour and a half later than he meant to be and wearing yesterday's wrinkled clothes (and probably reeking of planned evening and impromtu morning bird sex). "Because I am not some sad, lonely little bitch. No follow up questions because there's nothing that needs any additional explanation--shut your ugly fucking mouth, Moxxie," he added in a semi-panicked snarl because he knew--he just fucking knew--that Moxxie was going to point out that Blitzo was a sad, lonely little bitch. Possibly the saddest, loneliest, littlest, bitchiest bitch in the entire ring. And the fucking stupidest because every full moon Blitzo had at least one moment where he could almost forget that he was just Stolas' current favorite dildo (which was actually fairly high praise given the length, breadth, and girth of Stolas' sex implement collection, but still not really something to aspire to).
"I am only doing this for the benefit of you shitbags," said Blitzo, just to make sure everyone was on the same page.
"Um, sir," said Moxxie, "what are you even talking about?"
"Nothing," said Blitzo.
"Full moon was last night," Loona said without looking up from her phone.
"Ohhh," said Millie and Moxxie.
"Everyone shut the fuck up about Stolas," said Blitzo. "He's disgusting and I hate him and, again, I'm only railing him for hours to keep you idiots gainfully employed and off the streets."
"Why would you tell us that?" asked Loona.
"Ooo, hours," said Millie, her accent and enthusiasm doing slightly obscene things to a helpless unit of measurement.
"Are we going to have this conversation every month, sir?" asked Moxxie.
"No, just until you fucking ingrates start appreciating the sacrifices I'm making for you! I am having amazing sex that I do not enjoy only because of how much I care about this company!" Blitzo slammed the door to his office and then immediately leaned against it to try to hear what they were saying about him. The fact that it seemed to be absolutely nothing just made him angrier.
***
As the tallest, prissiest thing at the Harvest Moon Festival, Stolas was easy to find.
Not that Blitzo had any idea what he was going to do once he found him--he hadn't really stopped to think after deciding that he wouldn't be able to catch Striker. He also hadn't stopped to try to unravel the tangle of feelings from getting backed up against a wall by cowboy daddy (fuck that was such a good pitch; he was definitely going to spend some alone time thinking about that once he stopped being incredibly upset), but also cowboy daddy was a festering asshole for trying to kill M and M, and something about the gleam on that blessing tipped rifle had fucking infuriated Blitzo. He'd barely been able to keep his shit together and stall for time.
And then Striker had also given him that "we're superior" shit when Blitzo knew he was a miserable piece of shit who made everyone's life (including, and especially, his own) much, much worse, and no fucking way was he going to be told otherwise from a dangerous bad boy who he really should've kissed just to buy slow ass Moxxie some more time.
"Blitzy!" Stolas crooned. "Have you come to see if I have a special prize for my favorite competitor?"
Included in the tangle of stupid emotions that needed to be repressed with most of Blitzo's other feelings and memories was that he'd briefly considered stupid sexy Striker's evil plan. Not that slaying Overlords shit--Blitzo was good with sneaking topside for scraps if it meant none of those fucks knew who he was--but he could have had the grimoire all to himself and he wouldn't have to explain (not even to himself) that the thing with Stolas was entirely transactional, even when they just lay in bed together, talking about nothing or holding and touching each other in a nonsexual way that obviously wasn't cuddling because...of reasons. That he couldn't actually think of, but that didn't mean they were completely valid.
"Blitzy?" Stolas asked, all the cheerful idiocy gone from his voice.
Striker was right that Stolas was disgusting, rich, and pompous. Stolas could be condescending as shit and annoying as fuck. Blitzo couldn't tell if he fucking hated when Stolas talked down to him or if he liked having someone in his life again who teased him and who'd just giggle when Blitzo insulted him back--it had been a very long time since Blitzo had been able to lie in bed with someone and toss harmless little jabs back and forth like bowling pins. Stolas could irritate the shit out of him, but Stolas was also probably the only person he could ever tell, "Hey, the guy who tried to murder you tried to talk me into joining him, and it was hot." Because Stolas would probably just go, "Tell me everything", and it would end with one of them pushed against a wall. Because the worst part of being Stolas' personal fuck boy was that sometimes it was really, really good.
Blitzo desperately tried not to think about how he actually felt about Stolas (because it would probably mean he needed to start lashing out at him and pushing him away now, before it really hurt), but that didn't mean he wanted him dead. He sure as shit didn't want him killed by someone who wanted to take down Overlords just to try to become one himself. Especially someone who didn't have any problem using an Exorcist's weapon on other demons.
Blitzo'd seen what an Exorcist's spear could do, and considering Striker's pitch meant he'd had to imagine what one of those blessed bullets would do when it hit Stolas.
"Who was it and what did they do?" Stolas looked more serious than Blitzo had ever seen him, and something old and terrible gleamed in his eyes.
"Someone tried to kill you, dipshit," said Blitzo.
"Oh, is that all?" asked Stolas. For some reason, the dipshit actually looked relieved. "I was just thinking this year's festival was missing something..."
"Are you even fucking listening?"
Stolas laughed. "Blitzy, don't be so serious. You saw what it was like at Loo Loo Land."
"This was somebody competent," Blitzo snapped. "And you specifically told me you didn't need guards for this."
"I don't," said Stolas. "And you've taken care of it, Blitzy."
Blitzo looked away because he hadn't.
"Someone always tries to kill me at every Harvest Moon Festival," Stolas continued. "Just part of the fun!"
Blitzo couldn't decide if he should shake him, scream at him, or let himself be dragged back to wherever Stolas was staying and fuck him before somebody inevitably managed to kill his stupid ass.
"He had an angelic weapon," said Blitzo.
"Ooo, how exciting," said Stolas. "And how lucky I had you here to protect me, Blitzy."
"For fuck's sake, Stolas! We fucked it up! I don't even know where he fucking is! He could be--"
Stolas put a talon over Blitzo's lips. Blitzo considered biting him, but that might have sent the wrong message. "And who is he?" Stolas asked.
"Striker," said Blitzo.
"Your dashing little rival?" Stolas looked towards the portal and smiled liked he'd just seen something small and furry scamper by. "Should I find him or shall I let you do the honors? Or I suppose we could do both..." He leaned down, putting himself at half eye level with Blitzo. "But I wasn't the only one, was I?"
"No." Blitzo looked back at him, not sure if he wanted his help tearing Striker to shreds or if that was exactly the kind of thing that let Striker immediately know he was just the prince's little plaything.
Stolas nodded, as if he already knew who it had to be and didn't need to confirm it aloud. "You handle it, Blitzy," he said as he gently stroked Blitzo's face. "I couldn't possibly take that from you."
Blitzo closed the very little space between them and kissed him. He didn't protest when Stolas picked him up or when he started carrying him towards wherever his festival bed was.
"This is not turning into a fuckfest," said Blitzo.
"Once is hardly a fuckfest," said Stolas
"That all you can handle?"
"Shall we find out?"
"Yes," said Blitzo, his claws digging into Stolas' shoulder. "You know that dickhead gave me a 'we're not so different, join my evil plan' speech?"
"Did it work?" Stolas asked, opening a second, smaller portal so he wouldn't have to let go of Blitzo to open the door.
"No. But it was pretty fucking hot."
"Was it?" Stolas asked as he lowered them both onto the bed.
"It was so hot." Blitzo pushed his shoulder in the way that meant to switch places, and Stolas rolled onto his back so Blitzo could straddle his chest.
"Tell me," Stolas said as Blitzo took both his hands so he could use them to pin him down.
"He told me I'm so above sucking on a disgusting, rich, pompous Goetia."
"Pompous?"
"You know you're fucking pompous, Stolas."
"And what about you, Blitzy?" Stolas squeezed Blitzo's hands in a way that was possessive and eager. "Are you too good for this?"
Blitzo grinned at him. "No."
"Which one of us do you think should be put in their place first?" Stolas asked, but before Blitzo could answer, he was already on his back again, with Stolas looming over him like an eclipse. He held his forearm to Blitzo's neck--just like he'd wanted Striker to do--and said, "Tell me everything, my darling little imp."
***
Blitzo pulled out and slumped against Stolas, too tired from the adrenaline crash after everything to move.
He'd gotten confirmation that he was just an impish little plaything, but he'd also seen also the power of a Prince of Hell unleashed just for him, just when he needed it.
Except it wasn't for him. It was for the fucking book, because Stolas had only saved Blitzo's ass to cover his own. But instead of taking the book, Stolas had caressed him and held him and almost immediately opened another portal into his bedroom after Blitzo had offered to thank him with his dick. "Take a half day! Or...whatever!" Blitzo had shouted back at the rest of I.M.P., and then he had his tongue in Stolas' mouth again without even caring if the portal had closed behind them because after that fucking nightmare and nearly getting killed by fucking humans (with only a brief, gleeful interlude of badass murder shit), he really just needed to fuck Stolas' brains out.
Stolas hadn't kept quiet, but Blitzo hadn't wanted to stop to get out the bear traps (next full moon, he'd told himself and then promised Stolas when the fucker pointed out he wasn't being quiet). Blitzo hadn't wanted to stop, even briefly, because after seeing Stolas' demonic form, he'd needed to pin him down and fuck him.
He'd been almost disappointed when Stolas had gone back to his usual self--Blitzo wanted to feel the infernal energy rippling under his hands. He wanted to scurry up that terrible shape and lie against it and be enveloped by the writhing evil that Stolas could unleash and contain as he pleased. And he'd had to almost mindlessly thrust into Stolas until they were both shaking because Stolas was that gorgeously awful creature, a dark lord older and heavier than time, but also a weightless bird who giggled at the stupidest things and desperately wanted to get fucked.
"You really are all right?" Stolas asked as he started to stroke Blitzo's horns.
"I fucking said I was," said Blitzo.
"I wondered if that was just bravado for the benefit of your little companions," said Stolas.
But we still fucked before you asked me that, Blitzo thought, conveniently ignoring the fact that he'd practically demanded it.
He wanted to tell Stolas about the hallucination. It had been like his worst nightmares, and dream interpretation bullshit probably fit in with Stolas' stupid astrology thing. But if he told him he'd have to tell him about Fizzarolli and Verosika, and even if Blitzo was just a pet on a leash, he didn't want Stolas to know that.
"Why?" he asked, just in general, even though he'd already been given the one of the answers he didn't want.
"Because...because I'm fond of you, Blitz."
"Fond of deez nuts," Blitzo said reflexively. And to try to ignore the tightness in his chest. The Stolas who'd asked him if he was afraid to love people (if he was afraid to love Stolas) was just something his brain and a bunch of mindfuck gas had vomtied up. He knew what Stolas really wanted no matter how much he wanted to believe it when the Dark Lord Prince Stolas Goetia had compressed himself back into something Blitzo could hold and called him "darling."
"Among other things," said Stolas. "It's so weird how they're just...dangling. Out there."
"That's normal."
"Is it?"
"Stolas, you're like twelve feet tall, and I still don't even know what the heaven you keep up in your bird box. You're the weird one."
"Blitzy..." Stolas beckoned him with a smile and gesture that felt like the gentle tug of a chain. Blitzo dragged himself up the bed and put his head on Stolas' shoulder.
"Just let me know when you'd like to go home or back to your office," said Stolas even as he wrapped his arms around him. "You are welcome to stay as long as you'd like, of course."
Blitzo had forgotten that he'd been brought there and didn't have the grimoire or the van. "I'm fucking tired," he said because it was easier to say that than to say that he didn't want to move, that he wanted to stay.
And then Stolas' beak was nuzzling against his face and Stolas was kissing him tenderly, as if his stupid nicknames and soft touches weren't just part of how they used each other. Blitzo waited for it to turn into sex again--even though he'd just said he was tired--but it didn't, and that might have been worse.
"Blitz..."
Blitzo tensed because could tell what Stolas was about to say from the quietness of his voice and the way he was looking at him (or maybe Blitzo only hoped he knew what he was going to say because even Stolas had to have seen by now that he was really a selfish shitty shit fuck who was going to die alone).
But Stolas didn't actually say it (because of course he didn't--nothing had changed since Robo-Fizz had asked if anybody loved Blitzo), so Blitzo didn't have to push him away. Yet.
He was surprised to find he was crying. He waited for Stolas to mock him (aww, is poor Bwitzy overwhelmed by how unwuvable he is?), but the prince just brushed his thumb against Blitzo's cheek. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"No. There's nothing to talk about."
Stolas pulled him close, knowing by now exactly how to place his chin between Blitzo's horns and where to place his hands without pricking himself on Blitzo's spikes. He fit perfectly in Stolas' arms now--just as his dick fit perfectly inside him--and Blitzo wanted feel safe and content, but he knew it was just all going to go to shit.
***
Blitzo woke up on his couch, determined to repress all memory of the night before and pretend nothing had happened. Because nothing had. Because nothing that had happened at Ozzie's had been any kind of revelation. He knew exactly what things were with Stolas, and if he hadn't, only a complete gibbering moron would have thought there was anything more than transactional fucking going on.
So really no reason to get all butthurt about something everybody already knew. He definitely wasn't going to start crying about it (again) because nothing had changed and life was exactly as shitty as it had been before. Which was fine.
Blitzo was going to drag himself off the couch, get some coffee, and put on a smile even if he had to fucking draw it on because it wasn't like last night had felt like having his heart ripped out and his balls stomped on (but in a bad way). It hadn't felt exactly like that because Blitzo couldn't have possibly believed that any of that "my darling Blitzy" shit would ever be uttered in front of any demons Stolas respected (as if he wanted it uttered in public anyway).
He cautiously looked at his phone--no all caps texts from Moxxie asking what the hell was wrong with him and why was he still doing shit like this which hopefully meant that the celebratory pegging had still happened. Nothing from Stolas, but they both knew it was just fucking, and they were only fucking because of the grimoire, so it wasn't like anybody needed to text about any feelings that definitely were not involved.
His phone screamed, and there was the expected text from Moxxie.
WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU, SIR?
He wanted to tell Moxxie to mind his own fucking business. He thought about telling him that Millie wasn't going to be able to thoroughly peg him if he didn't unclench his fucking ass. He considered lying and saying he was too hungover to even contemplate Moxxie's snooty existence right now.
But they'd agreed (Blitzo really needed to stop negotiating with anyone) that Moxxie was going to stop bottling up what he actually thought until it came out in passive aggressive explosions, and Blitzo was going to stop deflecting with whatever obscene nonsense popped into his head.
WHY DO YOU KEEP DOING THINGS LIKE THIS?!?!
u now i dont fuckn kno Blitzo replied and turned his phone off just in case anyone else was going to call him out on his bullshit.
***
Blitzo nearly dropped his phone when he saw the caller ID. Stolas was calling him the day before the full moon, just like always. Things were going to be normal. This was just proof that if you just avoided any difficult conversations--especially if they were about the feelings that you definitely shouldn't and didn't have--and just ignored your problems, everything would be fine (at least until it all blew up in your fat fucking face, but that was future Blitzo's problem and he could go fuck himself for all the stupid shit he'd probably done between now and then).
Blitzo answered on the fourth ring so it wouldn't look like he cared or anything. "What do you want, Stolas?"
"It's the full moon tomorrow, Blitz," said Stolas.
"Oh, is it?" asked Blitzo, sweating from the sheer effort of trying to sound completely uninterested. "I don't really keep track of planets and shit."
"Yes, well, I'm feeling a bit under the weather, so I thought perhaps this time you could just...leave the grimoire on the balcony or at the door. Whichever is most convenient for you. And I would just...leave it in the same place for you to collect."
"You're sick?" Blitzo asked.
"Yes, I'm afraid so," Stolas said and coughed exactly twice. In the time honored tradition of healthy people who needed to sound like they were sick while on the phone.
"You can get sick," said Blitzo.
"Oh, yes," Stolas said and coughed exactly twice again.
"Stolas," Blitzo said and then stopped. "You just want the book back? No nurse costumes or pouring soup on you?"
"As...as delightful as that sounds, Blitzy, I'm...I wouldn't want to trouble you when...I simply need my grimoire for the full moon. As usual."
"You trouble me all the time," said Blitzo. "You fucking get off on it."
"Oh. Right. That's...what I've been doing, isn't it?" Stolas fake coughed again. "Just the grimoire this month. Please."
"Oh," said Blitzo. "We can do it another week if you want? I told you, I don't really care about rescheduling."
"That's...very considerate of you, but...we'll figure something out later. Sorry, must run!"
Blitzo stared at his phone. He wasn't sure why he wasn't absolutely delighted to get what he'd been telling everyone he wanted.
***
"Okay, people, listen up," Blitzo said. "We need to workshop a Sinnerfy playlist I made--for no particular reason--of songs that are good for crying."
"Why?" asked Moxxie.
"Uh, Moxx, I just said that this is for no particular reason," said Blitzo. "This is just one of those things that just happens and that no one needs to understand or ask me about. Like what causes hellquakes or why I spent last night in your bedroom closet."
"Stolas broke up with him," said Loona without looking up from her phone.
"Loona, sweetie, you can't break up when it's just a business sex thing that everyone is aware of because one of you is an adult and one of you is like seven thousand years old or some bullshit," said Blitzo. "And if you could, obviously I would have been the one to break up with him."
"Aww, boss, what you need is to get shitfaced and vandalize some of his property," Millie said, patting his hand in a way that was probably gentle by Millie standards. Her eyes sparkled as she added, "Or we could run him over with the van!"
"Look, I am still begrudgingly servicing Stolas so we can have access to Earth," said Blitzo. "Probably. And i just coincidentally need a bummer playlist for someone--who is not me--who hates himself--also not me, I'm great--and wants to be more efficiently sad about it." Blitzo smiled at them in a way he was sure that made it obvious that this had nothing to do with him because he was perfectly fine. He was not ten minutes from locking himself in his office and crying under his desk because a bird wasn't making him have mindblowing sex with him this month. And he sure wasn't going to be crying under his desk today because human chemicals and giant chicken forced him to confront the fact that he would never be happy. Because he didn't have to confront shit if he just pretended everything was good.
"Why are you making that face?" Loona asked.
"Called a smile, Loony," said Blitzo.
Moxxie cleared his throat. "Um, sir, do you not now what--"
"Ok," said Blitzo, "what about a playlist that says 'I'm sorry I had that breakdown over our transactional fuckbuddy thing--emphasis on the fuck, not the buddy--but I have totally repressed all my sad bitch feelings and am not desperate for any form of affection or validation'? It's for a client!"
Millie sighed. "B, have you even tried getting drunk about it?"
"Millie, don't encourage his toxic behavior," said Moxxie.
"Yes!" said Blitzo. "A lot! Why do you think karaoke night went so badly?"
Millie and Moxxie shuddered. "Sir, we agreed we were never going to speak about karaoke night again," said Moxxie.
"Stop bringing it up then!"
"And are we going to get back to being assassins at any point?" asked Moxxie. "Or are you just going to keep paying us to hear about your unhealthy patterns of--
"I'm not paying you because none of you are my therapist," said Blitzo.
Moxxie rolled his eyes. "Oh, you've finally noticed? What tipped you off, sir?"
"Because you shitheads haven't blocked my number and gotten a restraining order yet."
"That's...that's an option?" said Moxxie. "That's been an option the whole time?"
"Also not paying you because this counts as a lunch break," said Blitzo. "I want one of these playlists by 5 today. If you need me, I'll be in my office. Except nobody need me because I'm very busy!"
***
"Bullshit you've still got bird flu or whatever!" Blitzo shouted through Stolas' bedroom before realizing that it was empty and that he was going to walk all ten fucking miles through Stolas' palatial estate to fucking find him.
Stolas was slumped in front of the TV, watching his boring trash show that Blitzo refused to learn anything about. He was nominally wearing his favorite robe and looking more disheveled than Blitzo had ever managed to make him.
"You can do so much better than this, Gabriella," he sighed.
"No she fucking can't," said Blitzo. "Not after she fucking dumped Ignatio for that dipshit!"
Stolas jumped. "Blitzy! Blitz..." He brought a hand to his plumage as if he was just realizing how he looked. "I thought we'd agreeed--"
"We agreed you give me this--" Blitzo pointed to the grimoire--"And I give you this. So what the fuck is going on with you? And I swear to Satan, Stolas, if you fucking fake cough again..."
Stolas waved a hand and the grimoire floated towards him. He opened a portal to the real sky and flipped through the book at an impossibly fast speed, looking up occassionally as some comet passed overhead or some star withered and darkened. Then he shut the book and the portal with another gesture and sent it back towards Blitzo. "Yours until the next full moon. I'll call you if I need it sooner."
Blitzo stared at him, letting the grimoire keep hovering between them. "Did your balls fall...out? Further up in there?"
"I only really need the grimoire at the full moon, and if it would be useful to you..." Stolas shrugged, causing one side of his robe to slide completely off his shoulder.
"And what? You just get to call in some favor whenever you feel like it?"
"No," said Stolas. "You return the grimoire as I need it. That would be it."
"But--"
"We're neither of us Dealmakers, Blitz. No harm will come to you if we...revise our agreement," said Stolas. "And I will ensure that no harm comes to you in your use of my grimoire. I assume you won't object to any necessary interference."
"Why?" asked Blitzo. "If you're not getting anything out of it."
"I get to give you what you want."
"That's not...that's fucking stupid, Stolas," said Blitzo.
Stolas stood up, plucked the book out of the air, and held it out. "I could make it so you wouldn't have to work anymore, so you wouldn't even need the grimoire or any other way of earning a living. But I know you wouldn't want that."
Blitzo thought of the hallucination and the golden chains, of the ghosts of Fizzarolli and Striker telling him that he couldn't do anything on his own (and that he didn't want to). He couldn't remember if he'd told Stolas about that or if he'd just fucked him so he wouldn't have to. And thinking about the hallucination of Fizzarolli only made him think of the last time he'd seen the real one.
"Is this because I couldn't...that was...it was one time!" said Blitzo. "I just couldn't after they...And you..."
"I know," said Stolas. "I don't think either of us were our best selves then. I certaintly wasn't what I wanted to be."
Blitzo knew he didn't have a best self, and he couldn't remember the last time he'd actually believed he could be the kind of imp he wanted to be. It was so long ago that Fizzarolli had been there, sitting close to him while they talked about all the things they were going to do together.
"Having had some time to think about...what happened and about...about us, I..."
The words and tone were different--it was much quieter than it usually was and with way less profanity--but Blitzo knew this was a "we need to talk" kind of talk. It was what he'd been saying he wanted for months, but for some reason it felt as terrifying and awful as Stolas being too ashamed to even look at him.
He felt the familiar urge that he had to claw him back--(everyone leaves you, Blitzo, you push everyone away, sir)--even if it was a terrible idea, even if it would just lead to things getting worse and worse until they hated each other (because of course Stolas was going to end up hating him if he didn't already), at least it would mean he wouldn't have fucked everything up yet.
But he also knew he needed to say something unforgivable while Stolas was just a rich horny sad prince, moping around in a tragically aesthetic way that would get him all the cock he could ever want. Blitzo himself felt only one melodramatic gesture and heavy sigh away from promising he'd make him forget that son of a bitch (which, as that son of a bitch, could be tricky, but Blitzo was nothing if not sexually adventurous).
He was about to ask Stolas how many imps he'd been fucking while pretending to be sick or asking how much Sin cock he'd been gobbling to try to crawl back on his precious pedestal, when Stolas completely derailed his thoughts by saying, "I'm sorry. For how I've been treating you. I didn't...I know it's no excuse, but I just get caught up in things sometimes." Stolas smiled pitifully, as pathetically as when he'd tried to convince Blitzo that he'd just wanted to talk or cuddle and wasn't going to expect him to put out. "I think that's part of why I'm here."
Just as Stolas had never asked him about his scars, Blitzo had never asked him what it was like to be an angel. Part of it was because Heaven looked boring as shit, and those fucking cherubs had been too fucking obnoxious. Knowing what Stolas' other form looked like, Blitzo didn't want to be able to even imagine what he'd been like when he'd been disgustingly perfect.
"I should have tried to protect you," said Stolas. "I think it would have only made things worse, but still...just something else I'll have to regret."
"Not like it's my first time getting socially mutilated in public," said Blitzo. He was probably banned from the Lust Ring after Verosika claimed he was selfish in bed. He was probably extremely lucky that Fizzarolli had only targeted his shitty love life. "No big deal. I'm totally fine now."
Stolas reached down and stroked his face, just as he had after summoning himself to rescue Blitzo from those tuxedo wearing fucks. "Don't you want things to be better than 'fine', Blitzy?"
"I like to set realistic goals for myself," said Blitzo.
"Mmm." Stolas looked almost as if he was going to lean down further so he could kiss Blitzo, but he didn't.
"You don't want to know why I asked you there?" Blitzo asked, not sure if he wanted to lay all of his asshole cards on the table or that had already been done for him.
"No," said Stolas. "As I said, I was just happy to spend time with you." He looked at the grimoire, still in his hand because Blitzo still hadn't taken it back, and tossed it onto the couch. "Speaking of realistic goals, I'm going to watch hellanovelas until I fall asleep on the couch. You're welcome to join me. Or not. Either way, the grimoire is yours until the next full moon."
"That's it?"
Stolas flopped back onto the couch. "Such is the glamorous life of Prince Stolas Goetia, envy of the Seven Rings," he said with a sweeping gesture. "Or just the one in particular. The--"
"Yes, I got it, Stolas. They teach geography in shitty imp hellementary schools too," said Blitzo even though they didn't. He looked at the grimoire, then back at Stolas. "You don't want anything for it?"
"I want you to sit with me and watch these dreadfully gauche programs with me because you would like to," said Stolas. "Not because you feel you have to. I want you to believe that I'm not...going to expect anything else tonight if you did. Because I want you to know I won't feel any differently about you if you were to say that you'd rather leave."
Blitzo wanted to ask what exactly the fuck he felt or how he had the nerve to think it wouldn't make any difference if Blitzo stayed or went after this conversation, but nothing came out.
"I want you to know that...as I've said, I am very fond of you, Blitz," said Stolas. "I would indulge any of your most despicable whims, if you'll let me. But after everything...I think if you try to tell me again how I feel, I may need to ask that you go."
They looked at each other.
"You know I don't even watch this shit," Blitzo finally said.
Stolas smiled quietly, either because he knew what it meant or because he could see right through Blitzo. "Then I won't hear your opinion on Alejandro," he said. "He's troubled, but I'm sure she can change him."
"Ignatio was hotter. At least until the skiing accident."
"You're behind--the coma fixed most of that. He just has a very dangerous looking eye patch now."
"I told you, I don't care about any of this," Blitzo said as he climbed onto the couch. "And she should forget both of them and run off with her hot pilates instructor."
"Don't be crude, Blitzy. Valeria is her half sister!"
"Since fucking when?"
Stolas rolled his eyes. "Since Alejandro inherited the contessa's pomegranate farm!"
"Oh, fuck that," said Blitzo.
Amazingly (slightly disappointingly given that it had been over a month), Stolas didn't try to grope or fondle him. He didn't even pull that idiotic yawn and stretch move, just shifted slightly when Blitzo tentatively leaned again him and put an arm around him.
"Stolas," Blitzo said after an unusually long stretch without the prince attempting to argue with the television.
"Mmm?"
"This is fucking pathetic, Stolas."
"I know," Stolas mumbled, still half asleep as Blitzo picked him up. "You'll forgive me, won't you, Blitzy?"
"I'll fucking blackmail you," said Blitzo.
He unceremoniously dropped Stolas on his bed and hesitated, trying to decide if he was going to go back for the book and leave or not. "Stolas," he said, his fingers twisting the top button of his jacket back and forth but not undoing it. Stolas made an incoherent but slightly inquisitive noise. "You know I'm going to fuck this up," he said because he didn't know if Stolas was actually listening or if he was just talking to himself.
Stolas propped himself up on one arm and squinted at him. "Come to bed, Blitzy," he said. "Or don't."
Blitzo came to bed.
He woke up to Stolas watching him, which wasn't unsual, but keeping his hands to himself, which was. "Good morning, Blitzy," Stolas cooed. So at least they weren't going to just watch shitty TV shows and walk on eggshells around each other forever (which was probably a figure of speech he shouldn't use around Stolas).
"You want to try boring lights off missionary?" Blitzo asked.
He saw Stolas hesitate, but then he said, "You've got such a dirty little mind, Blitzy. How dull is it going to be?"
"So dull you're going to think about your grocery shopping list," Blitzo said in a low growl. "And I'm not going to look at you."
"Why not?" Stolas asked, running his talons up and down Blitzo's arm.
"Because I'm going to be staring at the headboard," Blitzo said. "And thinking about yardwork. I'm going to fuck you, but it's not going to be any good, and I'm going to think about mowing the lawn."
"Do you even have a yard, Blitzy?"
"No," said Blitzo. They grinned at each other.
"You promise I won't cum?" Stolas asked.
"Oh, you're going to resent the shit out of me," Blitzo promised as he climbed on top of him. "You're going to think about how good it used to be and wonder when the fuck we got so boring."
They didn't quite pull it off, and Blitzo failed to keep that particular promise at least twice (and he was going to have to deal with the fact that he was apparently into Stolas complaining at length about whose turn it was to do the dishes), but it was probably going to be fine.