Hearing Stolas's Voice Almost Echoing In The Empty Office Was The Start To A Few Fantasies Blitz Had

Hearing Stolas's voice almost echoing in the empty office was the start to a few fantasies Blitz had had since they got together, but now it just felt like a punch to the gut. He closed his eyes, trying to will away the stupid goddamn fluttering fear inside him, and pushed to his feet.

You can do this, he told himself, don't be such a little bitch about it. It was stupid to be afraid to just look at Stolas again. It wasn't like going into combat--fuck, going into combat would be easier. He swallowed hard, tugged his jacket down straight, put a smarmy grin on, and strode out.

"Stolas, you..."

Whatever rizz or jests Blitz might have intended to fall back on, the words died in his throat the moment he saw Stolas, and his heart started aching fiercely all over again, reminding him just how much this fucking bird meant to him, just how much he had truly lost when he lost Stolas. The material had nothing to do with it; even if he had lost his business, if Stolas hadn't given him the crystal, he would have lost so much more than that. Chances like this, moments like this, just to see him, to hear his voice, to smell that soft scent that always clung to his feathers. To hear the way his talons whispered over the floor, the way his clothing moved against him... Just being near him, just being in the same room as Stolas, was more valuable than anything else Blitz could ever have had...

And he'd lost it.

"Fuck. Hey. Um... You-- you look beautiful." Blitz winced even as he said it, sure that was somehow coming out wrong too; everything he'd been trying to say to Stolas had come out wrong recently, it seemed like. "Did you... uh... it's... been a while. Since that party. Did you--have a good time? I mean not like, you know, after, I'm not asking about you and Benji, especially since he's such a bottom, but did..." Rambling. Babbling. Probably coming off like an asshole. Blitz pressed a hand to his face. "Sorry. Forget I said--all of that. It's not my business anymore, is it?

"Would you... like to sit down? Tell me about this job?"

They could do this, right?

Fuck.

Somehow?

I miss him. I miss him, I miss him, I miss him.

BATED BREATH HOLDS FIRM TO LUNGS long enough Stolas worries he might lose consciousness if he holds it any longer. Stupid, that's what he was being. Blitz was busy, of course he was, Blitz was always busy. Too busy to text him, too busy to call him, to busy to rescue him and far too busy to visit when he'd been in hospital. As much as it hurt to say so Blitz was many things : disappointing being one he'd come to terms with as of late. Stolas sighs and places his phone face down on the lawn chair he sits upon. "Fucking idiot . . ." He mutters under his breath, face sinking into talons as he releases a pained groan. He's the idiot of course-- for expecting things to be different in any sort of way. He should have known better : there were entire parties dedicated to the past let downs of the imps life, why should he expect anything to have changed since then?

He'd let him leave after all, one minute he'd been sitting with Blitz, listening to an apology that, to his credit, sounded sincere and the next he was dancing with a very handsome succubi-- all because Blitz didn't want him, all because he'd wanted a romcom in place of a porno. Stomach churns and the Prince feels moisture behind his eyes. The night he'd spent with Benji had been fun but it wasn't what he truly wanted. He wanted Blitz to come running, to sweep him off his feet and proclaim his everlasting love. That he'd been a fool to act the way he had and he would never behave such a way again. But that, Stolas had come to learn, was just not something that happened in reality. Only in fiction, literature and the screen : and the owl's life was far from a picture perfect movie.

Notification ding sends stomach hurdling through feet and Stolas finds his hands peeling away from his face instantaneously. He grasps for the phone, heart beat a flutter as he reads the three individual texts. Well . . . at least he wasn't being an asshole about it. He runs a thumb alongside phone, considering the correct way to respond. He was glad the imp was willing to take the job but he was still angry with him. Stolas believed he was owed an apology-- one he could remember at the very least : and one that had a complete finish. The one at the party was blurry and interrupted. He wanted to hear Blitzo say he was sorry with his whole heart-- even if it meant the end of whatever it was they were.

>>> Sounds good. I'll be there shortly.

Thumb hits send and Stolas places his phone face down again. He doesn't want to over think things. As awkward as this may be he really does need to be protected from his ex wife and her conniving ways. - - -

His palms shouldn't be this sweaty, his chest shouldn't be heaving this hard-- he'd spoken to Blitz after the horrid full moon so why now was Stolas feeling the pangs of nerves settling in? With a deep breath he pushes himself forward, moving through the front door expecting to find hell hound receptionist at the ready-- but the desk is empty. Brows furrow as he glances around, checking for the other two imps who fulfill the back end of I.M.P. and they too seem to be missing. "Hello?" He calls out, removing top hat from head and clutching it between both hands. "IS ANYONE HERE?"

"I mean," the imp grinned, tail curling around her to keep her close, "it's always hot in our bedroom, babe. Tell me something I don't know." One kiss with Verosika was never enough. How could it be? She was--dangerous? Glorious? Like the sun a galaxy orbited around, but that anyone could burn up in if they got too close? Blitz kissed her again, reveling in the feeling of her hands on his chest. Any time she chose to touch him, any time she smiled at him, any time he got to see her sleepy smiles or her hair all messed up, it was like everything inside him was made of light, and nothing else mattered.

Which wasn't why she wanted him, he reminded himself. He had to be careful. He was supposed to be fun, right? The fun guy, the adventurous menace who would get her to laugh and break out of whatever her habits were. Blitz knew he couldn't afford to forget that, because if he did, he might screw this up, and if he screwed this up? There would never, never be anyone like Verosika. How could there be?

But she was so good to hold.

He kissed her one more time, purring now, before finally pulling away just enough to look into her eyes. After a brief hesitation, he nuzzled his cheek against hers, then rested his head on her shoulder for just a moment, just long enough to kiss her throat and fall for her a little more. But, somefuckinghow, Blitz came back to his senses. He let go of her and put on his ridiculous grin, making finger-guns her way.

"Sounds good, babe. I'll set the table. You know, figuratively speaking."

Once she left to shower, he got the tablecloth and spread it over the top of their mattress, weighting it down at the corners with pillows so the fans wouldn't mess everything up whenever they oscillated towards it, then he laid all of their dinner out in the middle of the bed. There was still some ice left in the freezer, halfway melted, so he added all of it to a pitcher of water and set it close; it might be the last cold thing they'd have for a few days, so they might as well enjoy it.

Then, although his stomach rumbled, he waited, not about to start without her. For a moment, he was tempted to follow her in to the shower and help steam things up a bit more, but he knew better. She had probably had a long fucking day and deserved a bit of alone time, right? Sometimes, people needed a few minutes away from the world, even from their lovers, and that was okay. Verosika Mayday was pursued pretty much all damn day, every day, by people wanting one thing or another from her, at least as far as Blitz knew; he should at least try to be her safe space, where she never had to look over her shoulder and sigh before putting on her smile.

Verosika was still getting use to the idea of living with Blitz, mostly because there were usually walls in the way of their relationship, but to her it felt as if everything was going right, she wasn't drinking anymore, and Blitz was being romantic and considerate which she found flattering and caused her to be happy. When she entered the apartment it did smell like a carnival, It made her smile as she was reminded of her childhood, or what was once a happy childhood.

Hearing Blitz from the kitchen she nearly bumped into the bed in the living room, she could barely hear him as he called from the kitchen due to the fans around, once inside she blinked looking towards Blitz and the various items he cooked, she snapped out of her awe when he asked how her rehearsal went. ' Oh! It went fine, sweaty but fine.' She approached Blitz, her hands reaching to grab the back of his head, pulling him forward to kiss him softly as a thank you for the cooking.

After a few moments she pulled back giving a small laugh, her hands on his chest. ' I am just gonna shower, and then we can eat okay? thank you for cooking, and good idea putting the bed in the living room, It's HOT in our room.'

Huh. She wasn't at all what Blitz had been expecting. He'd barely even been sure what to look for, but had conjured up an image of a goth-punk runaway kid of some sort. Instead, this one seemed to be some kind of--what, avatar of life? Was that what the fuck fae were? Blitz stood up straighter than usual as she spoke, completely taken aback, trying to understand. She seemed so peaceful, like her energy was just some kind of mishmash of all the good things in the world smushed up together.

So what the fuck was she doing here? That was his first clear thought. His next was: no wonder that royal fucker seemed so concerned about her. If she was a halfway decent person, she didn't belong here.... although that was a whole-ass can of worms Blitz wasn't in the mood to open, so he shut down that line of thought.

Putting on a smile, he offered his hand. "I'm Blitzo, the O is silent. Nice to meet you, Zephos. Zeph? Mind if I come in? Apparently, we've got a lot to talk about. I've got a whole list of questions to ask you, if you've got the time. Genuinely just questions," he added, realizing how this might sound like the set-up to a robbery or something. He patted his pockets down, then took out a little paper packet and shook it: tiny seeds rattled inside. "I was told to give you this as a gesture of uh, you know. Good will. Thyme seeds? If that means anything to you."

The fae creature months ago had found herself hurled through fog thick on Samhain and falling beyond comprehension, to a living creature at the very least. Yet still persisting and alive, this woman was. Unlike the rest of the denizens of this cursed place.

She'd had to navigate this new world, forests of steel and metal, iron that burned ice cold to the touch, nary plants in sight, horseless metal carriages that careened at high speeds, let alone all the strange and unfamiliar species of people surrounding her. Most with ill intent.

This fae-demon hybrid at this point in reality had lost track of time, as if time was really relevant to the situation at hand. No way home, no way to return to her secluded forest, no spells or potions or items precured had proven effective. So she decided to stay in this Hell instead. The concrete jungles were much, but at the edges of the ring as it was called weren't bad in comparison to the urban landscape.

Zephos had been minding the place she'd found herself staying at, watering plants she had managed to find in this nightmare realm. A strange and twisted world this was, quite different from the one she was home to.

Then a knock was heard, along with what could be described as a bastardization of an attempt of fae speech. It was the closest, however, she'd felt to home.

When the door opened, Blitz would be greeted by a soft beauty, buxom and sweet, short by human standard. Her eyes shown curious with silver hues, shadowed by black lashes and black curls of hair cascading down her back, grey antler like horns poking through the mess of black hair. She would have a curious smile, black lips standing against the porcelain of her skin. Well...he was no fae, but anyone attempting to greet her in such a manner was welcome.

"Well, Sir, what might I be able to help you with? You're the first friendly face I've seen since arriving here. Even if the fae language needs some work." She would have a voice soft as a bell, a lilt suggesting an accent from a place one might hear of in faerie tales. Yet a warmth to it, like freshly baked bread. Her tail swished behind her, wondering who this stranger might be.

Blitz felt like he wasn't keeping up somehow, but he was trying to. He watched Angel intently, tail swishing more than he usually liked to let it when there was someone to see, eyes wide with concern and confusion. He wasn't entirely sure what they were talking about here, because it felt like they were talking about a relationship, but they couldn't be. Because he had just given Angel an out to a relationship, to turn away from any notion of that being on the table, and Angel didn't take it. Instead he--

The imp's eyes widened more and the spines on his back straightened somewhat when Angel told him his name. The Italian had gone right over Blitz's head, but the name? Heart suddenly beating a lot harder than it had any right to, Blitz squeezed Angel's hands and nodded. Christ on a fucking stick, this was getting dangerous. They should both walk away here and now, refuse to make any stupid mistakes like--like they were rapidly trying to do. But how the fuck could they? There was something there between them, some fucked up invisible rubber band or fuck ever knew what, pulling them together... and Blitz didn't want to go. He didn't want to leave Angel even if it was smarter. He didn't want to be smart. He had just told Angel about his own painful history with sex work, and Angel had told him his name, and if that wasn't the two of them offering vulnerabilities because they chose to, then what the fuck was?

"Nice to meet you, Anthony," he said, voice quiet, throat feeling dry, fear surging. This mattered. This relationship with Angel--it mattered. He couldn't let himself fuck this guy up, no matter what. The trust he'd just been given... Blitz knew that some things had value well beyond any money, any treasure, and trust was one of them. Giving it away lightly in Hell was a goddamn mistake that only fools would make more than once...

But Angel wasn't a fool. He knew what he was doing. Or at least, fuck, Blitz hoped that he did.

"Sounds like we're going with my proposal, then," he said, because one of them needed to say something. Blitz threaded his fingers through Angel's, looked at their hands, then met his eyes again. "Anthony, I don't want--some secret relationship. I've done that. It hurts. More than I can handle anymore.

"But what do you want?" Even asking that question, just the fact that they were having this conversation, felt like leaping without a fucking net, but it had to be done. They both deserved better than to be left in the dark, wondering about the other. Or, even if they didn't deserve better than that, Blitz was going to fight for the both of them anyway.

Bottom that he may be, he certainly had no issue guiding things in the direction he wanted them to go - he had more control than people gave him credit for. He was stronger than people assumed. He was just relieved that Blitz had kissed back - of course the imp had given him the go ahead, but that didn't mean jack shit. That didn't mean he actually wanted it. How many men had Angel kissed that made him scrub his mouth out later?

But Blitz kissed him with such ferocity, such genuine desire. He could tell the difference, he knew the difference. And he had certainly noticed the difference when the other had changed the way he had kissed him, too. It wasn't the desperation of a sinner trying to get in his pants, taking advantage of him at the clubs just to say they slept with the hottest porn star in Hell. It wasn't a leading kiss, like Valentino often gave him, to tempt Angel to give him what he wanted.

It was real. It was genuine. Had Angel ever truly been kissed like that before?

He realized that his cheeks were slightly damp with crystalline tears as the imp pulled back, embarassed and quickly rubbing at his eyes, smudging his eyeliner, pushing it further into the white fur. He was sure he looked like a hot mess, but he didn't feel that he had to be perfect. His eyes only widened further once Blitz took his hands like that, and if he had been alive he would have sworn his heart was about to beat out of his chest. No one had ever used such romantic gestures.

It wasn't about romance, it was about lust. Libido. Sex. Passion. That was what Angel Dust stood for. He was listening to everything the imp was saying, stunned into silence for possibly the first time in his life, only shaking his head once Blitz stopped talking. "Non penso che tu sia capace di ferirmi peggio di quanto mi sia stato ferito prima...." Whispered words, definitely not expecting the other to understand them at all. Maybe even a silent promise to himself that he wouldn't let Blitz hurt him the way Val had.

"....Anthony." He said it without even thinking about it, blushing a bit from the shock of his own words, pushing some of the fluff away from his face as if tucking hair behind his ear. "....mah' real name is Anthony." And if that hadn't screamed vulnerability, nothing else would.

The fact that literally everyone knows Blitz would be way too at home in a sketchy kink club in Pride kills me, and that some of you chose he panics and proposes to Moxxie instead (this is absolutely the answer) gfdjkghfdsjk y'all know Blitz way too well and I am here for it.

Editing to add: I deleted the quiz link because I am going to dive back into drafts and won't be looking at it <3 But you guys are amazing and gdi, I should try to be around more often, dash games are fun??

BLITZY-KUN GIMME YOUR BABIES I WANT THEM

Blitz winced at hearing the nickname. For just a moment, he considered running--if he didn't turn around and look at her, it wouldn't be real, right? But at the same time... Fuck. He'd put her here. He'd done this not just to himself, but to her. He didn't usually give a shit about killing people, it wasn't like he destroyed their souls. But Emberlynn... Goddamn it.

Sure he was going to regret this, he turned around, standing up straight as he summoned a grin.

"First of all, no. I got myself sterilized years ago. I've got exactly one biological child and I ain't lookin' for more. But second..." His bravado faltered and his expression softened. Stepping forward, he offered a hand. "Listen, I've killed a lot of people, and it doesn't usually like, fucking, go down like that. So, hey, I don't know if... you need someplace to stay for a while, or..." He rubbed the back of his head, already sure this was a mistake, but still committed to it. "You didn't even try to save your own life. And that kinda... I think you... you know. Deserve a second chance. To figure out a life where you do want to fight for it.

"So if you uh... I mean obviously you know where I work. And I'm pretty sure you know where I live. And have all of my phone numbers and my email. It's--fucking creepy stalker shit, but at the same time, if you end up needing somewhere to go...

"I got you."

Three reluctant words, but sincere all the same.