"Fucking Tell Me About It." Blitz Sat Down Heavily On The Barstool Next To Roth, Folded His Arms, And

"Fucking tell me about it." Blitz sat down heavily on the barstool next to Roth, folded his arms, and plunked his forehead down hard on them. "That whole thing was--you know, I'm obviously the actual fucking worst at coping mechanisms," he said with a little snort, lifting his head to look at his friend, "but that shit was something else.

"And some of the fuckers there I don't even know. It's just fun for them. Feels good, I guess. Safe. Hating people. I--I get that." He sat up straight and poked at a fading moisture-ring someone's glass had left on the bar. "But like, this asshole Dennis. He wanted to fuck me at a Bee party. I kind of remember it, mostly that he was really like, you know, fucking grabby. I remember the taste of his breath more than anything else, I was so fucked up and drunk. Apparently, Bee insisted my daughter take me home because I was so 'not okay,'" Blitz made air quotes, "and yet this fucker, Dennis, is now entitled to hate me? Cause he couldn't drunk-assault me?

"I've done a lot of shit, man, but I've never fucked someone who was too wasted to consent. Fuck that. Fuck everyone at the party. I mean fuck me, too. But... Jesus fucking Christ. So does just like, everyone know about that shit? It was on the radio, right?" The imp leaned back now, clacking the ends of his horns against the back of the barstool. It made a satisfying sound, so he did it again, and when the bartender finally came over, he just flipped him off rather than order a drink.

“Now, far be it from me, but throwing a yearly hate party for one Imp is too much. It reeks of scorned bitch vibes.”

Let's keep it professional. That was the gist. So Stolas had clearly noticed that the second text came from the heart more than it should have, and he didn't want anything to do with it.

Fuck.

The rejection stung, ached, and threatened to break Blitz down all over again. He wanted to type something quick and shitty and mean, but every time he let his impulses rule in conversation, even if he was just trying to deflect with humor, all he did was make it worse.

Not that it could really get much worse. Stolas didn't want a damn thing from him now, obviously, and probably didn't even want to hire him. It was short notice, and bodyguards were hard to find in Pride--the most violent ring, no matter what public perception would say. Pride was full of Sinners, souls who just respawned whenever they were killed, to whom life meant nothing, and impulse control even less. No one wanted to try and protect someone here, so of course Stolas had to scrape the bottom of the barrel to find someone. Fuck.

Blitz turned the radio on. He made himself listen to two full songs before he replied. Well, he'd planned on listening to three, but impatience (and maybe insecurity; what if Stolas found someone else if Blitz took too long to reply?) won out.

>>okay be there suun

>>just hav to drop of a packidge

>>10 mins

He silenced his phone. If Stolas was going to change his mind now, Blitz didn't want to know about it until he was back at the office, until he could at the very least be around Moxxie and Millie. Loona had been AWOL the last few days, which wasn't really unusual for her, but just being near the other two imps would help... well. Fuck. A little. Maybe.

Even if, not so very deep down, Blitz suspected Moxxie wished he had been at that party.

Fuck.

That fucking party.

Remembering it left Blitz aching anew, sick to his stomach. So many people there, reveling in hating him--including a piece of shit he barely remembered. Dennis was there to celebrate hating him. Dennis, who was what, pissed off that he didn't get to fuck Blitz when Blitz was almost blackout drunk and self-destructive, so wasted that the Queen of Gluttony herself insisted he be taken home? What the fuck was that about, Dennis being included in that shit?

But hatred wasn't logical, and that was the damnable misery of it. Blitz groaned at the thought, rubbing his forehead. It wasn't. Hatred brought people together. Moral superiority brought people together. Being able to bond over anger and disgust and apparently being stopped from taking advantage of him, made those fuckers feel good, feel better.

Good for them.

They were going to end up as goddamn humans if they weren't careful.

But his emotions were getting away from him. Blitz shook his head, put the thoughts away (as best he could; putting the party from his mind got harder every day), and pulled back onto the highway.

-

After a quick stop at the post office, he made it to the office. Blitz hurried upstairs, anticipating telling M&M that Stolas was coming over...

But neither of them was there.

Damn it.

Fuck everything.

He flung himself into a chair in the lobby, leaned his head back, and spun slowly, waiting for Stolas.

It was going to be fine. Really. Everything was going to be fine.

RESPONSE COMES QUICK AS LIGHTNING and for a moment Stolas can't help but stare at the screen. Talon tips pad over nail beds as upper beak nibbles bottom. His heart pounds intensely and after a moment of remembering how to breathe he begins to type back.

' Thank you. We should do this professionally. Are you free now? Could I come in to the office?' Blitz has made it abundantly clear. He doesn't want a relationship with him, couldn't fathom something between them that wasn't meaningless sex. And really who's fault was that? Ever since that night at Ozzie's something had been amiss with them. The owl hadn't been able to put his finger on it, but every plea, every reach for attention, for closeness had been batted down. And then that night-- the full moon. Nothing had gone the way he'd intended and it hurt to know Blitz didn't want the same thing he had . . . still the fact remained. He did in fact need protection from the other Goetia and there was no one he trusted-- had trusted more than Blitz to do it. Even if he didn't actually care about the Prince, his business' reputation was on the line. AND SURELY THAT HAD TO MEAN SOMETHING TO THE IMP, DIDN'T IT?

How was Asmodeus this fucking endearing when he could also probably become a terrifying menace at the drop of a dime? Blitz suddenly felt deeply affectionate towards him, maybe ridiculously so, and he couldn't stop smiling as he listened, continuing to caress. When Asmodeus mentioned how he didn't want Blitz to check in constantly though, Blitz chuckled and nodded. Yeah, that was something he could definitely understand. It was sweet when people did that, but if a sub wanted to be able to drift in subspace, it would yank them right back out.

"This all sounds good, baby. We'll use colors. I'll check in if I start getting worried, you speak up if anything feels wrong, alright? We aren't gonna do anything too heavy tonight, nothing too kinky, but I'm gonna take care of you. I'm going to fuck you, Asmodeus," Blitz promised, and kissed him tenderly on the forehead, "more than once. It'll be sweet sometimes, hard and rough other times.

"But I'm not going to hurt you. Not physically," although for the Sin, that was probably a given, "and not emotionally. You're my baby tonight. My beautiful, beautiful baby, and I've got you. Once we get started, you won't need to think, just let me move you, let me use. Let me treat you like the fucking treasure you are." Blitz leaned in and kissed him again, this time on the lips.

Blitz always kissed like a lover, like his partner already held his heart, like he would cherish theirs forever.

When their lips parted, he nuzzled him, then met his eyes again. "To please me tonight, all you need to do is obey my instructions. You don't need to put on a show. Just say Yes, sir. No, sir. Or yellow, Red, sir. Whatever applies. Just relax. Don't think too much, don't worry. Things may start slow, but trust that your only job tonight is to be beautiful and pampered, yeah?

"Now. Let's get set up so we don't have to interrupt anything later on. I've got condoms," because Blitz always, always had condoms, "you got lube?" Once they'd paired up the condoms with the right lube, once they had both had the chance to freshen up for a moment in private, Blitz locked the door.

He went back over to Ozzie and, once again, kissed him like Asmodeus wasn't just the Sin of Lust, but the absolute center of someone's world, the sun this strange, muscular, dangerous imp chose to orbit around.

"Now, baby. Undress for me. You can be sexy about it if you want, but you don't need to be. Just undress, then stand there for a moment, let me look at you." He kissed him again -- a beloved partner, a jewel to be treasured, a secret best whispered with smiles -- then stepped back to give Asmodeus a little room, and cue him to begin.

He just wanted to make sure that this was something that Blitz wanted. Even though he was the sin of lust he was still out here respecting boundaries. Wanting to make sure that others knew that he wasn't trying to just use them to sleep with them. Asmodeus always knew it was easier for when he shrunk down to either smaller than the other, or just a little taller. In this case he made himself a little shorter than Blitz even. Just because he wanted it to be that way.

The rooster was already melting at the palm of Blitz's hand. He liked this feeling. Of being the one taken care of, but he wouldn't mind doing the same with for Blitz if that was something he wanted too. It was all about the compromise as well in his eyes. Asmodeus found himself leaning into Blitz's hand as he smiles just a little. Already feeding into that attention. "Hmm, sure. I can answer your questions." Asmodeus states. At least the best he could. Nothing really seemed to be off limits for himself anyway. So, he was more than willing to answer questions. Even if they may be a little uncomfortable or something like that.

The kiss to the cheek made him smile too. When he was pushed back onto the bed he couldn't help but feel his cheeks turn a light shade of pink as the other nudged his knees apart as well. It seemed like the imp knew what he was doing and he wasn't going to complain about what was happening.

"I don't want to have to be in charge, I want someone who can take the lead and not have to ask every time if something is okay for them to do to me. We have safe words or colors for a reason." Asmodeus explains. Of course it was nice to have someone make sure that they were all right during intercourse, but it didn't have to be all the time. "I want to be able to get into that sub space and not have to think about anything for awhile and just be under someone else's control." Asmodeus said. He bites down on his lower lip as he looks at the other. He wanted to be taken care of for a change. "It's one of those things where I wouldn't mind if we even got into the dominate and submissive part of a little bdsm if you're into that."

Mentioning things he liked was a little awkward sometimes. Mainly because he never knew if he'd be judged. Even though the other did say he wasn't going to be judged. It was just hard to let someone know all of what he wanted. Depending on how this went tonight, maybe the two of them could even continue to see each other.

Pls I just want them to be able to be silly together ;__;

Vox started to answer, but stopped himself with a shake of his head, taking a moment to think about it instead. He had to step up onto one of the rungs of the fence so he could lean over enough to look down; from up there on the bridge, they had a lovely view of the graceful creatures gliding past them, directly underneath.

"I guess it's that they're so... effortless. Or they look that way. The way they move, how they glide. They fly. Like they're completely free. I only saw one once while I was alive, and I was too stunned to be afraid. It swam past me, majestic. The master of its domain.

"They're dangerous. They don't stop. They can't stop. They process so much information so readily, without needing any powers to do it. I guess maybe I envy them. Their ease. Their--how they just fit. They belong. There are no acts to put on, no shows, no lines, nothing but their grace. If they have to kill, they do it. They don't--regret it. I can't imagine it's every hard for a shark." He leaned over a little farther, carefully tucking one heel under a rung to ensure he couldn't slip, or be pushed, the kind of precaution most Sinners in Hell were likely fully accustomed to themselves; one never knew when a friend might decide to turn foe.

Once the sharks had finally wandered out of view, Vox pushed himself up. He went and leaned against the fence on the other side of the bridge from Angel, elbows comfortably back on it. Their feet were fairly close together, the angle of their bodies making a nice vee away from each other. In the darkening evening air, it felt nice, he thought. Comfortable. Not wanting the moment to end, Vox thought back to the other things Angel had said, and asked about. Smiling, he shrugged.

"You do look amazing. Kind of your thing, right? And sure, I try not to notice. You're Val's boyfriend," Vox said it with a completely straight face, "and I try not to intrude on your whole... thing you two have going on. Despite sometimes getting jealous. But I am capable of seeing beauty, Angel." Some sort of small dragonish hellbeast flew over. Vox tilted his head back to look at it, watching its flight. "And you're right, Val threw a shitfit. I left a few hours after you did. I wasn't going to come, but he was throwing such a tantrum, I hit my wall. There's only so much Val Anger Management I can do before," he made an explosion sound, quiet but augmented by his speakers to sound nearly like the real thing, "I want to explode.

"But hey, screw Val. He's an idiot and we love him, but he's not here and we are. Tell me something about yourself, Angel? Something you want me to know, though, I'm not trying to pressure you for secrets."

"Mm, why do yeh' think ah'm layin' here doin' a bunch of nothin'?" He teased right back, though Vox would know. While Angel Dust wasn't nearly as go go go as the other sinner was, he certainly worked himself to exhaustion. Or, well, Valentino did. The amount of live shows lined up, the hours of terribly written pornos, the overnights on the street to earn his pimp more money. Angel Dust deserved the fucking break. Relaxing on the beach was well earned.

Though he had certainly heard the allegedly, and he knew exactly what Vox had meant - the Overlord was not just doing nothing on this beach trip. It had been part of why he had agreed to go see the sharks, maybe to take Vox away from the many other screens he possessed. Maybe because the other had offered him free booze which he would never pass up on. Maybe because Vox looked stunning like this, even if he had hid himself away - oh yeah, Angel had noticed.

He didn't really notice the thrill that came with seeing the sharks, but it was nice to see the other so....happy. It wasn't a mood that he had ever witnessed Vox in much. He'd seen his angry, manipulative side. He'd seen his overly cheery positive CEO face. He'd seen the stressed, running on too much coffee, working himself to exhaustion mode. But this? Considering his disdain for the Vees, for many obvious reasons, it was....nice. To see a side of Vox that he hadn't really gotten to experience.

He was caught off guard by the question, to the point that the words, "Yeh' think ah' look incredible?" spilled out before he could even think about them. This day was just full of surprises, wasn't it? Angel was glad that his sunglasses hid the confusion in his eyes, if only because it made no sense. Val and Vox were a thing. That much had been....incredibly fucking obvious. Angel might be Valentino's little fuck toy, but he wasn't the boyfriend. That role belonged to the man beside him.

He tried to shake off the shock, ignoring the way he could feel the flush of his cheeks, shrugging his shoulders. "Guess ah'm doin' whateva' Charlie decides tah' do f' activities. Ah'm here tah' support her mostly. Cause ah' know damn well Val is gonna be pissed that ah' took a week off." A sigh at that, though he still kept on a smile. "Ah' know she's doin' an open mic night, which ah'm definitely not gonna miss. And th' fireworks do sound pretty cool."

Crossing the bridge to the lagoon in which Vox had spoken about, Angel found himself leaning slightly over the somewhat fenced area, looking at the sharks that were swimming. Hell was weird. Some animals acted like animals - Keke and Fat Nuggets being prime examples - while some sinners were animals. He'd had enough run-ins with sharks to not find them appealing, though a lot of them did give the mafia vibes he thought were kinda hot.

"So, sharks. What is it about sharks, hm?" He asked, tilting his head, never taking his eyes off the giant fish. "When ah' was alive, th' only use sharks had was tah' eat th' bodies we'd throw out inta' the river, once they hit the ocean. Yeh' know, th' whole stereotype of swimmin' wit' th' fishes." A roll of eyes - mobsters were so dramatic.